


The Mystery Train Tour

by Charming_Quill



Series: The Dynamic Duo Detectives [2]
Category: Nancy Drew (Video Games)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 06:52:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 25,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5280932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charming_Quill/pseuds/Charming_Quill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dynamic Duo is back to tackle a baffling disappearance while on a train tour vacation. Though bored at first, the girls soon get swept up in events that keep spiraling further out of control. Will they be able to discover who the culprit is?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Taxi Terror

Jammed into the back of a taxi was not exactly the best way to start off our vacation. But here we were: Natalie, my father, and I clinging to our seat belts. The driver kept swerving around other cars. Made me feel sick.

Natalie tugged at her ponytail. Her hair was long and jet black with red dyed streaks. Biting her lower lip, her head bobbed with each bump in the road. “How much longer, Mr. Romero?” She asked.

Dad glanced down at her with his hazel eyes. Rubbing his stomach, he also appeared a bit queasy. He swallowed and said, “Not much longer…I hope.”

My long legs were curled up against my body. I tried blocking out all the noise and sudden jerks. “Don’t puke,” I muttered under my breath. That was my main goal. Keep the contents in my stomach for as long as I could.

“You okay, sweetie?” Dad asked, while wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

“No!” I snapped back. Glaring at him, I pulled out of his grip. My arms crossed over my chest. “Why did you have to drag us all the way out here? What’s so damn special about this train tour anyway?”

He sighed and shook his head. There was a long pause of silence as he formulated his answer. Licking his lips, he scratched at his thick mustache. Natalie, in the meantime, uncomfortably squirmed. Undoubtedly, she was less than thrilled of the turn of conversation. She probably agreed with me about this stupid vacation, but she would not dare say it directly to my dad. Her eyes became fixated on the dirt splattered window pretending to be fascinated by something.

Finally, dad responded, “You know this was important to your mother. We’re fulfilling her wish to go on an authentic historical train tour with actors portraying real life characters…”

“Dad, stop quoting the brochure. Makes you sound like mom is dead and we’re granting her a last wish.”

“What? You don’t have a flair for the dramatic?” He chuckled.

Turning her head around, Natalie brushed her black hair out of her face. She cocked her head. “Why couldn’t your mother come? I thought she planned the whole thing from start to finish.”

“Business emergency.” Both my father and I replied in unison. It was not surprising. The life of an electrical engineer at Krolmeister was not easy. Especially when they were in the process of creating a new security system. Lately, she was being dragged back to the office at odd days or hours just to put out some fires. Bothered me more than I let on, but I understood why it was important.

“Oh, okay,” Natalie shrugged.

Silence fell over us once again. There just wasn’t much to talk about except the trip ahead of us. Outside was nothing but a blur of cars and buildings. Nothing exceptionally exciting to write home about. So, I just rested my chin on my hand wondering when this horrible taxi ride would be over.

Suddenly, the driver slammed on the brakes. That snapped us all back to attention. We gripped the seats in fear as he swerved left into oncoming traffic. Unleashing a scream, Natalie braced herself for impact. I even had to close my eyes because I was afraid to look.

And it was by some miraculous miracle that we made it to the other side of the street completely unharmed without even a single scratch. There was no break slamming or crashing. Opening my eyes back up, I stared in shock.

He pulled slowly into the parking lot. Like he was the model citizen driver. The car drove right up to the curve in front of the train station. Throwing the vehicle into park, he whipped his enormous head around. His flabby lips formed a smile. “Well, we’re here, y’all.”

“Thank God,” Natalie whispered under her breath. Wasting no time, she darted out of the car, grabbed her bag from the trunk, and rushed to the double doors. I didn’t blame her.

Dad didn’t bother talking with the driver any further. Shoving his hand in his pocket, he grumbled about the price. He just placed the cash in the driver’s hand and walked away. I quickly followed.

The station’s green glass doors complemented the rustic red brick. Natalie had her hand on one of the brass handles. She swung the door open bringing in a blast of refreshing cold air. Taking a deep breath, I groaned.

We were almost immediately assaulted by a man with an overly excited grin. Bounding toward us, he held out a stack of white paper. “Why hello there? Are you guys here for the Hurly Train Tour?”

Everyone nodded. I added an eye roll.

“Excellent.” He passed out the sheets of paper amongst us. “Here is your itinerary for the trip and a menu of what we’re serving for dinner this evening. Please head over to the designated area by the tracks to wait for the train to arrive. Feel free to mingle with the other guests and let us know if you have any questions.”

Both Natalie and I shared a glance. Our eyes seem to say it all: we were in for an absolute bore-fest. Oh well, I thought. Might as well try to have some sort of fun.


	2. Sleuth Update #1

MysteriousSymphony-

We’re going on a magnificent adventure…ugh! Sorry guys, but I just can’t get excited about this. What Yessica and I are actually doing is being dragged to a railroad station so we can board a lame mystery train tour. Talk about a terrible vacation idea (major disappointment)!

Well…I guess it’s not that bad. Hell, I used to love doing these crazy mystery dinner stuff. But after solving a real mystery, there’s no thrill factor anymore. Where’s the fun when you know it’s all fake?

Yessica seems to think the same thing. Or at least, I that’s my theory. I would ask her, but there’s a few problems. One) her dad’s in earshot and doesn’t know what we did last spring break. Two) I think she might throw-up if she opens her mouth.

Our taxi driver was another annoying quirk. Talks non-stop as fast as he can while ducking in and out of traffic. I swear we almost collided with twenty other cars on my side alone.

We finally made it though. Three obnoxiously overenthusiastic actors greeted our group after loading the train. It’s pretty cool actually. Has a lot of neat mechanisms that I’m amazed still function. And the gemstones were cool to look at. It hasn’t change my mind about this trip in the slightest, but it’s kind of interesting and slightly familiar. Can’t quite put my finger on it, but I’ve heard Jake Hurly’s name before.

Well now they’re calling us all into the dining room cart. Guess it’s time for the mystery festivities to begin. Probably will be super lame. But, I guess since this has something to do with mysteries, I’ll keep you guys posted. I’m sure we’ll find something fun and interesting about his trip to comment on. Be sure to check back here for some excitement (hopefully). ‘Til next time.

Time: 9:00:00, Date: June 17th, 2015


	3. Disappearing Act

“Welcome, weary travelers, to the famed train of legend!” The young man belted. He wore a brass button, black coat with tan pants. A thick layer of dark curly hair covered his chin, and both sides of his face. With a glint in his eyes, he bowed. “I am your humble host, Jake Hurly!”

“Give me a break,” I muttered. We were no more than a half of an hour into our trip, and I was already bored. Sure, theatrics, especially cheesy ones, could be entertaining. They are good…as long as they do not go overboard. These definitely crossed that line.

Now, another guy stepped forward. He wore more casual clothes: a pair of overalls with a red cotton shirt. His hair was thick brown, and curly, matching his black skin. Flashing a wide smile, he spread out his arms.

“Look at all dem fine ladies and gents we got ‘ere.” He slapped his knee while smacking his gums. “The names James Thurnston, an’ I’m y’alls conductor. An’ we are gonna have us a good time, am I right?”

Waiting for the crowd to respond, he was sorely disappointed. They remained silent. Only Yessica and Mr. Romero clapped out of both pity and obligation. Thankfully, it did not seem to bother the actor. He chuckled and said, “Guess y’all are a bit more tired than I reckoned.”

Clearing his throat, James Thurnston winked. “Well, seein’ as how this train is my responsibility, I’ve got a few rules y’all hafta follow…”

The passengers simultaneously groaned. Mr. Thurnston babbled on about the importance of safety. I tuned out.

First I thought I would scrutinize the other guests to see if they were just as bored. One woman sat with her young daughter. Her name, if I remember correctly, was Yuma. She was trembling, gripping her seat tightly and hyperventilating. Across from their table was a family of four-the Newman’s. Devan, the father, met my gaze with a suspicious glare.

I swiftly turned my head. My cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. Discreetly this time, I glanced to my left. A woman, by the name of Jackie, was scribbling in her notebook. Every few seconds, she clicked her tongue in disapproval. Probably was still silently complaining how inaccurate this whole ordeal was like she had earlier. She looked so miserable. I could relate.

Finally, I scanned the last table. A single man had his arms crossed, and was leaning back in his chair so far I thought he might topple over. His jaw was clenched. His eyes wandered from Camille Hurly to me and back. Whenever he caught my eyes, he winked. It caused me to shudder. I turned away.

With that option now exhausted, I allowed my thoughts to drift to what my sister was up to. Mel was probably having a ton of fun. She got to go on vacation to Italy. Why was I left behind? I’d like to see Rome or Venice or the villages in the countryside. Heck, I’d be happy traveling outside the U.S. for once. But no, I had been relegated to this torture where I was to be hounded by three overenthusiastic, try-too-hard, lame, uninspired…

Yessica jabbed her elbow into my side. Startled, I snapped back to reality. “Ow!” I growled, glaring at her. “What was that for?”

“If I have to sit through this and pay attention, then so do you.” Yessica’s tone was bitter. The goofiness, probably, was irritating her to no end. And with her father staring down her back, it only added to her stress and tension.

Rolling my eyes, I sighed. Leave it to Yessica to take her anger out on me. I didn’t mind so much, but it still stung all the same. I turned myself forward in my chair to diligently watch the actors play their parts.

Thurnston had stepped aside to make room for the actress. Her flowery magenta dress dragged across the carpet. She sighed, widening her placid smile. Raising a gloved hand, she gestured to the audience.

“We truly are delighted to have such wonderful guest this fine afternoon. My name is Camille Huly, wife of Jake Hurly, and I extend to you a warm welcome. We hope you find this arrangement to your liking. Please, if you have any questions or concerns, come and fine me…”

Suddenly, the lights flickered. The dining room went silent. We watched as the bulbs stopped working. Soon, everything was hidden in darkness.

“What the heck’s going on?” I asked, while groping around the table. My eyes were having a difficult time adjusting to the blackness.

A hand clasped my wrist. “I think the train’s lights are malfunctioning.” Yessica quietly answered. She must have not wanted to cause any panic among the other guests. That unfortunately did not work.

Someone loudly screamed in terror. That certainly caught my attention, making me jump out of my seat. It toppled over onto the floor. A chorus of gasps and panicked whispers spread throughout the room. Gulping back my fear, I decided to speak. “Is everyone okay? Who screamed?”

No one responded until one of the many kids started to complain. “Momma! Where’d the light go? I’m don’t like the dark! I’m scared!” Two boys chorused.

“Whoa now.” One of the actor’s voices cut through the confusion. It was James Thurnston with his boisterous tone. “Let’s not get too riled up over dis predicament. Justa little difficulty with the lanterns. We’ll ‘ave ‘em lit in a jiffy.”

Everyone seemed to calm down after that. Loud shrieks were replaced with hushed whispers. I plopped back down in my seat, allowing my heartbeat to slow. I could faintly see the outlines of people moving around. Most of them were stumbling over fallen furniture.

Finally, the lights came back on. I blinked a few times, and rubbed my eyes. A headache started to form. I was on the verge of bitterly complaining when I glanced at Yessica’s face. She was intently looking at the end of the room. A look of concern plastered on her face.

I followed her stare, and furrowed my eyebrows. Up front where three actors had been, now there were only two. Camille Hurly had disappeared from sight. There was nothing left of her but her lacy boots.

Panicked chatter started to fill the dining car. Where had she gone? Why had the lights turned off? Was she okay? Who could have done this?

James Thurnston’s actor held up his hands. “Now don’t fret, y’all. I reckon Mrs. Hurly’s just gone off ta powder her nose. Nothin’ to worry ‘bout…”

“Cut the crap, Rick!” Jake Hurly’s actor snapped. He appeared more frantic, and agitated than his counterpart. Turning toward us, he outstretched his arms. “I know this is a murder mystery tour, but this isn’t part of the act. Camille’s not supposed to disappear!” He started panting. “Does anyone know what happened to her?”

The guests threw out some suggestions and theories. None of them were too solid. Jake began to look a bit discouraged, so I decided to stand. He glanced at me with hopeful eyes.

“We should organize a search party!” I chimed in. Everyone whipped their heads around, and awkwardly stared at me. Shuffling my feet, I sucked in a deep breath. “She might still here on the train. We won’t know until we check it out.”

His eyes widened as though this was some grand revelation. “Of course! She’s got to be. There’s no way off.” Lifting his chin, he pointed to the audience. “We’ll comb the entire train. If you find any evidence or something suspicious, be sure to let either Rick or myself know. Please…help us.”

Yessica stood up, nodded, and stepped away from the table. With Mr. Romero in tow, we walked out of the room, stopping only briefly to glance at the boots. They seemed to yield no clues, so we proceeded onward.

My heart was thudding in my chest while we searched. Questions ate at my thoughts. Was this staged? All part of the act? Was the actress really in serious trouble? If she was kidnapped, who would do such a thing? I pushed these nagging suspicions out of my head. Now was not the time for speculation. Because if Camille Hurly had been kidnapped, there was not any time to spare.


	4. Sleuth Update #2

EvidencePainter-

Location: Jake Hurly’s train

Subject: Camille Hurly’s actress

Description: Five foot three, small build with strawberry blonde hair and grey blue eyes. Pasty skin with freckles. Wearing a light pink dress with lots of frills that looks like it’s from another century (probably because it is a replica of a dress made in another century).

Assessment: Appeared a bit high strung and forcing a smile. Was watching a couple people in the crowd tour. Seemed to recognize them from somewhere. Kind of startled her. Is she scared of them? Perhaps she knew them from college or a previous job? Having an affair? Jealous ex-boyfriends? Bullies? Enemies? Competitors? List could literally go on forever. Continues to act polite, though, and maintained enthusiasm during tour. Maybe this is all over speculation? It could be possible she’s just pretending to be nervous because one of the train occupants is the made-up killer. Guess this assessment cannot be completed until I am able to gauge the situation a bit better.

Conclusion: Will have to keep an eye out for her and make sure she’s okay.

Objective: Corner her alone and ask a few questions.

*URGENT UPDATE!*

The actress has vanished from the dining car. One minute she was standing there. Then the lights blacked out. And now she’s gone. The only thing worthy of note is I heard a faint squeaking noise. Almost like something was opening up. Slipped away in some secret passage perhaps? Or was kidnapped? Either way, altering objective.

New Objective: Find Camille Hurly asap!

Time: 6:00 pm, Date: June 17th, 2015


	5. Secret Room

Despite our best efforts, our searched yielded nothing. No clues to her whereabouts. No sign of a struggle or footprints. No cries for help or pieces of clothing or hidden messages. It was as though she never existed.

We bumped into a few of the other guests along the way. Polite introductions were exchanged (most of the time), and we would ask what they saw. No one really gave a definitive answer. Squeaky noises, ear splitting scream, loud bumps, just that sort of stuff. Most of them really looked all that interested, and were only haphazardly searching. They offered us nothing.

Defeated, Natalie and I trudged back into the dining room. Rick rushed over to us, sweating in his James Thurnston overalls. “Did you find anything?” He eagerly asked, even though he already knew the answer.

We shook our heads. “We’ve looked everywhere. Sorry, but she’s just gone.” I shrugged. What else was there to say?

Bowing his head, he sighed. “Where the hell could she have gone? People don’t just disappear like that.”

“Unless they wanted to.”

Rick stared at me like I was an alien. “What? Are you kidding? Camille would never abandon us or this production. She loved it too much. There’s no way she’d deliberately do this.”

“Not even if she was fearful of someone on this train?” I raised an eyebrow when I noticed his body tensed up. Scooting closer, I folded my arms. “Look, this isn’t our first time around the block. It’d make our lives a whole lot easier if you just tell us who she recognized.”

“Fine,” Rick essentially gave up. Scratching his chin, he thought for a minute. “I know she recognized at least three of the guests. Couldn’t tell you who specifically. She was pretty vague while she was complaining about them. Said something about not really wanting to see any of them again.”

“Well that’s not real helpful.” Natalie mumbled under her breath. Swiftly, I jabbed my elbow into her side. She winced.

Oblivious to Natalie’s comment, Rick continued talking. “I just can’t imagine that seeing someone would drive her to fake this whole thing. Seems kinda ridiculous to me.”

The more I thought about it, the more I felt my hunch was right. I decided to try getting more information out of Rick. “Let’s say she did decide to disappear for whatever reason she may have. Is it possible for her to switch off the lights, and slip out of the room unseen? Could she have gone anywhere that no one else would’ve known or thought about? A secret room?”

Suddenly, Rick slapped his forehead. “Of course!” He cried. Turning around, he gestured to the shelves filled with books. “I forgot about the bookcase.”

“How does it work?” Natalie cocked her head.

Rick pointed underneath the table. “See that tiny button?”

We both nodded. Insisting we step on it, Rick watched as our eyes lit up. The moment the tip of my shoe touched the switch, the bookcase swung open, giving us a clear view of the bar in the next room. Natalie clapped in excitement. “That’s so cool!”

“Well,” I started to pace the empty room. “Now we know how she escaped, but where would she go after this?”

“Camille Hurly’s private room,” answered Rick. “It’s the room past the gemstone display. You’ve got to push the buttons in the right order to open the door.”

We wasted no time with goodbyes. Natalie and I slipped out of the room, frantically rushing past people down the narrow hallways. Panting, I surged past the gemstone display to the golden door. Natalie, on the other hand, stopped dead in her tracks.

“Come on, Natalie!” I grumbled while pressing the buttons. “We’ve got to get in here.”

“Um…Yessica. Wasn’t there an amber stone on display earlier?”

My teeth grinded together in frustration. I nearly had the right combination. There was no time for this. “I don’t know. We’ll check it out later.” Click. The door swung open. “We’re in!”

There was not much to see in this room. A sofa, some dolls in a cabinet, and a dancing pad were all that was there. That is, except for a neatly folded note on the floor. Bending over, I scooped it up, and read, “I just can’t bear this life anymore. I’ve been running from this for too long. It is time to end my miserable existence. Goodbye world.”

I furrowed my eyebrows. This sounded more like an overdramatic teenager’s diary than an actual suicide note. Natalie also appeared confused.

“She committed suicide? But that doesn’t make much sense…”

Rick suddenly burst through the door, interrupting Natalie’s thought. Sweat poured down his face. He took a moment to suck in air, leaning against the cabinet.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“You guys need to see this,” was all he would say. No elaboration. Just turned and walked out of the room. We followed suit.

He led us to one of the train windows by the sleeping compartments. I had to cover my ears. The noise of the wind whistling was grating on my nerves. Who opened the window? I wondered. Better question: why was it opened?

With a lot of effort, Rick pulled the window shut. He swiped his forehead. “I found that while I was headed back to my room. And this was lying on the floor.” He paused, reaching into his pocket. It was the actress’s silky pink scarf. “Do you think it’s got anything to do with Camille’s disappearance?”

Natalie cringed. “Rick…” She placed her hand on his shoulder. “We did find a suicide note in Camille Hurly’s private room…”

Anger flashed in his eyes. He yanked out of Natalie’s grip. “No!” He shouted. “Camille wouldn’t do that! She…she wouldn’t do that…” Rick broke down. Tears rolled down his face. “She couldn’t have done it.”

In my mind, I agreed with him. This whole ordeal was starting to seem suspicious. While Natalie comforted him, I snooped. There was not a speck of blood. Nothing to indicate she had thrown herself out. I was skeptical. But, I did not want to share my thoughts in front of Rick. One glance toward Natalie, and I could see it in her eyes. She shared my doubts.

We escorted him back to the dining car. He was nearly inconsolable. Dad noticed us, and rushed over. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

“We think Camille Hurly might be dead from suicide,” I whispered, hoping to keep the news from spreading. Luckily, he understood. He did not press the subject any further.

Zach came over, and we also shared the news with him. At first, there was a moment of hesitation. He gave no strong reaction until Rick glanced up at him. Only then did he launch into tears, and offered to take Rick off our hands. I glared at him while they left. Something was off.

Dad cleared his throat. He slapped his hand on our backs, steering us away. “So, who’s hungry?”

“I am,” Natalie confessed, rubbing her stomach.

I really wasn’t, but I figured food would be good. We would need plenty if we were going to unravel this mystery. Because there was something amiss going on. I just did not know what.


	6. Sleuth Update #3

MysteriousSymphony-

That was certainly more excitement than I bargained for. In case EvidencePainter didn’t tell you, Camille Hurly’s actress (don’t know her actual name) disappeared this evening. And boy did it cause an uproar. Everyone’s complaining about how this was not what they signed up for. It took quite a bit of convincing, but James Thurnston’s actor (I do know his name. It’s Rick Grey.) finally managed to calm everyone down.

That’s where we came in. We interrogated just about everybody. They didn’t have much to say about the actress. The High and Mighty Historian just talked about how inaccurate this whole set up was. Mr. Creepy Man Who Needs To Stop Glaring At Me kept babbling about how traumatized his kids were and how he’d never get any sleep tonight. Wispy Woman would not stop hugging her kid to protect her from supernatural beings.

The only two who really cared about her were Rick and one of the other train occupants. I don’t really think I could accurately describe him. It’s like he’s got these eyes that just…ya know. He sits at the corner table, talks like he’s sad about her disappearance, but it doesn’t sound sincere. Almost like he loves her deeply and yet, there’s a deep seated anger boiling underneath. Not the kind of guy I would trust to be with alone.

Well, enough about suspects. We managed to track the secret opening and a room back to the caboose thanks to Rick. Apparently his uncle has told him pretty wild stories about this train. Anyways, we found a suicide note and later discovered an open window where her scarf was. They think she’s jumped, but I don’t know. Call me crazy, but this seems too convenient for my taste. EvidencePainter agrees with me too, so I’m not just being paranoid or way too excited about a legitimate mystery.

There’s just something off about it. Like the actress wants us to think this is what happened. There’s nothing right now to prove this theory one way or another, so everyone keeps telling us we have to accept it. She’s dead and that’s the end of the story. Sorry guys, but I’m not satisfied. So, you can bet EvidencePainter and I will be on the case from now on!

I’ll keep you guys posted.

Time: 6:30 pm, Date: June 17th, 2015


	7. Suspects

“What will it be, sir?”

Mr. Romero scratched his scalp while pondering his dinner selection. Next to him was Yessica, who was more preoccupied with watching the other guests than ordering. I had already made up my mind, so I just sat there zoning out. The green wallpaper pattern was starting to meld together with my unfocused vision.

“I’ll have some chicken dumplings with a side of potatoes. And for an appetizer, we want some breadsticks.”

“Okay,” the waiter made a note in his little pocketbook and then asked. “And for you, ma’am?”

Yessica stared at the menu one last time before making her final decision. “I want a slice of pepperoni pizza.”

“All right. And what will it be for you?” His sea green eyes stared down at me.

I handed him the menu, and flashed a bright smile. “I’d like the grilled salmon with broccoli please.”

The waiter raised an eyebrow as he snatched up the laminated menus. “Excellent choices. I’ll be right back with your breadsticks.” He slightly bowed, and then walked off.

Silence ensued. We all kind of sat there feeling completely exhausted. My grumbling stomach churned. Its protest was the only thing keeping me awake. I noticed Mr. Romero’s eyelids were drooping. He looked like all his energy had been sucked out of him.

Only Yessica seemed remotely alert. Her eyes darted from one guest to the other. Wheels turned in her head. Most likely, she was assessing potential suspects, or dreaming up new theories. I, personally, felt that she was kidnapped, but Yessica did not agree with that. She thought this was all a deliberate act.

After a good long while, Yessica sat up a bit straighter. Motioning toward me, she touched her dad’s arm. “Hey, dad, I have to go to the bathroom. You mind scooting over?”

“Don’t let me stop you,” Mr. Romero stood on his feet, allowing her to slip past him.

Taking the hint, I also got up from my seat. “I have to go too.” I followed behind Yessica as we slipped through the door. Meticulously, we checked each stall. None were occupied.

Yessica locked the door, whirled around, and leaned against the counter. I figured she was about to ask me a favor. Waiting patiently, I crossed my arms. A very serious frown formed on her lips. “Natalie,” she said. “I need you to distract my dad so I can eavesdrop on the other guests.”

I was not shocked by this request. If Yessica was going to prove her theory, she would have to take the time to evaluate the other guests. Standing up straighter, I flashed her a reassuring. “Understood,” I replied.

We remerged from the bathroom to find a bowl of steaming hot bread at our table. My stomach growled. Because of Camille’s vanishing act, we were eating dinner rather late. I stuffed a few of them into my mouth and moaned. They were delicious.

Mr. Romero decided he should be the one to break the silence. “Well, this trip isn’t exactly going to plan, but we can still have some fun, right?”

“Yeah, like this is fun.” Rolling her eyes, Yessica munched on her piece of bread. She was slowly starting to scoot to the edge of the booth.

I chimed in. “It’d probably be more fun if we were actually doing the stupid mystery tour. At least then everyone wouldn’t be so gloomy.”

“What’s with you two? You both used to love these murder mysteries.”

“Come on, Dad!” Yessica slammed her hands down on the table. It caused quite a commotion. Everyone was suddenly staring at us. “We’re not twelve anymore! We used to like it, but now we don’t. Why can’t you see that? Gosh!” Standing up, Yessica marched off.

Her father sighed, and turned back toward me. “What am I going to do with her?” There was a defeated look in his eyes. “She’s been so moody lately. Do you know what’s going on with her? Is it something serious?”

A twinge of guilt gnawed at my mind. I knew it was all an act. I wanted to tell him. But, I could not. “Um…” What excuse could I use? I did not have one prepared. Thinking quickly, I just said, “She’s probably still upset Mrs. Romero couldn’t come. I mean, before she couldn’t stop talking about this trip, and it really bummed her out when she got the news. Maybe that’s it.”

“That’d explain it!” Mr. Romero’s face lit up.

The lie was eating me up inside. I could feel my gut twisting into tight knots. “Well, it’s only a guess. I don’t know if it’s true or not…”

I kept babbling on, hoping to hold his attention. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Yessica meander throughout the dining car. She maintained her angry glare to keep people from approaching her. Head bowed, she secretly spied on them. She meandered around, looping through this endless circle, stopping only to pretend to check her phone.

Hurry up, I silently begged. The conversation had started to lose steam. There was only so much I could say about teenager issues.

Finally, Yessica rejoined us. She slumped back in her seat with her arms crossed. Avoiding all eye contact, she fiddled with her fork.

Mr. Romero winked at me, and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Yessica. We’ll call your mom tonight after dinner. You can tell her all about how this vacation is going.”

Yessica and I exchanged glances. I hoped she would play along. Thankfully, she smiled, and gave her dad a hug. “I’d like that.”

“Ehem!” The waiter had suddenly reappeared. He balanced a large tray on his hand. Setting it down, he distributed the orders. “There you go. Need anything else?”

“Nope,” everyone shook their heads. He thanked us, and left.

All throughout dinner, I wondered what information Yessica had managed to gather. Would it lead us to any other conclusions? Did she learn anything new? Work up a new theory? There was no use speculating at the moment. I would just have to wait until the two of us were alone for her to share.


	8. Sleuth Update #4

EvidencePainter-

Location: Sleeping Car

Subject: Suspects of potential kidnapping (Note: these assessments will be shorter than normal.).

Rick Grey: Seems like a nice guy. Lover of ghosts and supernatural. Saddened by actress’s apparent suicide. Cleared for now.

Zachary Roberts: Plays Jake Hurly. Doesn’t seem too concerned, but he explained they did not know each other too well. Will have to confirm with other employees. Semi-suspect for now.

Jackie Lipsky: Very uptight individual who is obsessed with accuracy. What sparked this fixation? Wanting to do good job or just passionate? Also appears to carry camera around with her. She documents everything and seems to pay extra close attention to detail. Perfectionist? So far, no association with Camille’s actress. She did not even bat an eye when asked or informed of suicide. Will have to do some digging before she is ruled out. Suspect for now.

Devan Newman: A family man who never stops talking about his kids. Probably should spend more time with them. They seem to not care much about what he says or does. And he doesn’t care about what they say or do as long as it doesn’t disturb him. Kind of been ignoring his wife as well. Claims this is a well-deserved vacation, but is still constantly talking on his phone. What business transaction could be that important it can’t wait? Was one of the ones the actress recognized. When questioned about her, he wrinkled his nose and nostrils slightly flared. Also had a slight lip twitch. Hidden resentment toward her? Nervous? Thinking of something else? Too early to tell, but high up on suspect list. Suspect for now.

Yuma Glendale: Odd…eccentric…flaky…nervous wreck…potentially schizoid. Honestly, what isn’t there to say about this woman? She claims to see Camille’s ghost. Sticks to her daughter like glue. Jumps at every tiny bump or person rounding the corner. What is she so afraid of? Again, no association found with the actress. Another one who requires a little extra effort to investigate. Seems slightly unstable, but not to point of extremes. Will give her benefit of doubt for now and keep her lower on suspect list. Semi-suspect for now.

Alfred Russo: A man with serious issues. Not joking, this guy is dangerous! For starters, he appears to be distraught by the actress’s disappearance and suicide. Even managed to tear up so he could excuse himself. It’s all an act though. Clenched fist suggest anger or fear. Eyes were dead of emotion-possible sociopath? Lips constantly frowning. There are deep scars on his knuckles also. Suggests he was in a fight or a possible struggle. None of them recent. He has a scratch mark going up his arm as well. Looks like a long fingernail could’ve easily done that. Potential spousal or girlfriend abuse? Latest victim’s mark? And, it’s more recent than the scuffed up knuckles. Can’t tell exactly, but it’s about a month old. What other marks is this guy hiding? Could he be capable of kidnapping Camille’s actress? Absolutely. Couple that with the fact the actress recognized him and probably stared at him the most, I’d say we got a suspicious pile of evidence stacking up. Prime suspect for now.

Time: 7:45 pm, Date: June 17th, 2015


	9. Copper Gorge

“Next stop! Copper Gorge!” The conductor shouted while ringing his obnoxious bell. Our train came screeching to a halt. We watched from the window as the town came into view.

It wasn’t much to look at. A few rickety, old, wood buildings built atop mounds of sand. Behind us was a train station-the only pristine part of town. There was a winding road leading to the graveyard. The only other places were a diner and an ancient looking museum.

Natalie suddenly became overly excited at the announcement. She beamed. “Did he just say Copper Gorge?”

“Yeah…so what?” I wasn’t really in a mood to deal with her giddiness. The actress’s disappearance was starting to consume me. Practically all my focus was drawn to the mystery. Fun was not a part of that.

Clapping her hands, she squealed. “I just remembered reading about a case Nancy Drew worked on, and she passed through Copper Gorge!” She whipped out her phone, and started shifting through articles. “Here it is! ‘Amateur Detective Nancy Drew solves the mystery of Jake Hurly’s disappearance and catches crook.’ Yessica,” she grabbed hold of my shoulders, and spun me around to face her. “We’re literally walking in Nancy’s footsteps!”

Okay…that was definitely something to get excited about.

Before I could answer, Dad slapped the back of my shoulder. “Whelp,” he sucked in a deep breath through his nose while grinning. “It’s the first stop on the tour. You girls ready to have fun?”

We both simultaneously nodded. 

“And who knows. Maybe this’ll get your minds off of that girl’s suicide.”

I wanted to protest, but said nothing. Dad’s mind was made up. There was no use trying to change it. Not until we had a decent amount of proof.

Once the train completely stopped, the doors slid open. We stepped outside, and we were immediately hit with a wave of heat. It was stifling. Dusty wind blew in our faces. There was hardly a soul around.

Jackie exited right after us. She pushed her way past, and whipped out her camera. Snapping pictures, she aimlessly wandered about like she was a lost tourist. Even now, she seemed angry. Her face was permanently set in a scowl.

Clapping his hands together, Dad cleared his throat, causing me to snap out of my daze. “Okay, girls. Where to first? The diner or museum?”

“The museum!” Natalie answered while bouncing on her heels. I readily agreed. A trip to a museum seemed like the perfect distraction.

Ring! The bell sounded as we swung the door open. Wooden planks creaked under our weight. A musty smell mixed with salt filled my nose. Scratching my nose, I failed to notice someone walking toward us. Suddenly, a loud voice boomed.

“Well howdy there partners! Welcome to Buell’s Museum. Home to the world’s best taffy this side of the Mississippi.”

Natalie and I both stared at the costumed woman in horror. It was ugly. Bulging black eyes rolled whenever she moved her head. A giant, buck tooth smile made it look crazy. Extending a rubber white hand, the woman gestured to the right. “Down there’s some games an’ exhibits y’all can take a gander at. Y’all can also help yaself to some taffy, as long as you pay for it.”

“Thank you, miss…”

“Fatima,” she introduced herself. Dad exchanged further pleasantries while we decided to walk away.

Strolling around the museum, we stared at the exhibits. They were kind of interesting. Not all that much to look at, but informative nonetheless. Natalie tried her hand at one of the games. Ended up beating it the first time. Considering it was a game of chance, I was impressed.

We finally wandered back toward the taffy. I could smell the salty, sweet candy, and my mouth began to water. Digging through our stash of coins, we paid at the counter. We each selected the plumpest piece we could find. It tasted even better than it smelled.

Just then, Jackie came storming in. One quick glance around, and she instantly condemned the place. “You call this a museum.” She snorted. “Looks more like a glorified junk shop.”

“Hey!” Fatima shouted. “Don’t you be makin’ fun of my museum! We got all sortsa stuff in here. Some mighty fine artifacts.”

“Artifacts? Ha! More like rusty tools you grabbed out of your garage. Just look at this display! It’s so wildly inaccurate; I’d say it’s practically criminal. At least as far as education is concerned.”

That struck Fatima’s nerve. “Get out! Y’all ain’t welcome in my museum!”

Jackie just shrugged. “Not worth my time anyway.” She turned and left, leaving all of us bewildered.

“What is her problem?” Natalie spoke up. I could sense that she was secretly fuming as she threw her arms up in the air. “Does she just enjoy making other people miserable?”

Patting her shoulder, my dad shook his head. “Calm down, Natalie. She’s nothing more than a bully. Some people are just like that.”

Suddenly the door swung wide open again. Fatima perked up. She kept to her strict routine. “Well howdy there partner. Welcome to Buell’s Museum…”

The pale kid who had stumbled in was panting. I did not recognize him as one of the guests. Must be a local, I figured while studying him. He clutched his chest, wheezing and coughing. Judging by his quaking body and white knuckles, he was scared. Could barely hold himself upright.

Fatima cocked her head, causing her creepy costume to rattle. “Dagnabit, Jeremiah! How many times I got to tell ya? Ya don’t get no free taffy, and you is banned from the store. Ain’t you remember what happened last time?”

Jeremiah refused to budge.

Awkwardly rocking on her heels, Natalie bit her lip. She wanted to leave. I did too.

“Allrighty, mister trouble maker. Y’all gonna have ta scat, or I’ll be takin’ this to ya mother.” The store owner stomped out from behind the counter, quickly descending upon the boy.

He gulped. “Fatima…” Tears swelled in his eyes. His voice trembled. “We gotta call the sheriff.”

“What you babblin’ ‘bout? Sheriff Goldman ain’t got time for somethin’ like this. Got important stuff he’s gotta work on.”

“No! Mr. Finnly says we gotta call the sheriff. Some lady’s hurt at the graveyard…”

That caught everyone’s attention. I wasted no time. In a matter of moments, I dashed out the door, and ran toward the graveyard. I could hear Natalie’s pounding footsteps behind me. Nothing but pure adrenaline coursed through my veins. It drove me forward as I burst through the iron gate.

Someone in a brown coat was kneeling in front of a crypt. I assumed it was Mr. Finnly. When he heard us approaching, he stood up. He quickly turned to face us. Splotches of blood stained his pant legs and palms. That was not a good sign.

His skin was ashen white. His square jaw was set in a frown. Speckled grey strands of hair spilled out of his cap. Throwing out his large, shaking hands, he shook his head and spoke in a raspy voice. “I wouldn’t come closer. Not a pretty sight.”

“I can help.” I said, barreling past him. But, as soon as I laid eyes on her, I understood what he meant.

Her billowing pink dress was torn. There were gaping holes in her chest from multiple stab wounds. Her mouth was open as if she was still screaming. Staring blankly up at the sky, her life had already slipped away. The body was posed. Meticulously staged in a doll like stance. Arms resting, neatly folded, on her stomach.

Camille Hurly truly was dead.

Natalie gasp, and started stumbling backwards. Choking on sobs, her knees about buckled. Mr. Finnly steadied her. Guided her away from the scene while I stood there in shock. How could this have happened? I asked myself. Everyone thought she was dead.

I felt a hand resting on my back. Spinning around, I buried my face in my dad’s arm. He held me. Rocked me back and forth, telling me everything would be all right. No, dad, it wasn’t all right. Everything was falling apart.


	10. Sleuth Update #5

MysteriousSymphony-

It was…I…that…and she…was…there…

I’m speechless. How could it end this way? We thought she was still alive, hoped that we could find her, but now…

Okay. Get a grip. You guys deserve to know the truth. Well here it is: Camille’s actress was murdered today. Yep. Stabbed in the chest twenty times with what we believe to be a knife. Though…the marks were so deep and torn up nobody could tell for sure.

Oh God! I’m going to puke or lose it or something! Jewel thieves and smugglers. That’s the only thing we’ve ever dealt with so far. Not murder! Not the brutal ending of another human being’s life! It’s disgusting. Horrifying! So much so, that every time I close my eyes, I still see it. A perfect picture as though I was standing above her again. I’m not going to sleep at all tonight…

She was found by Camille Hurly’s grave-in front of the crypt doors. Must seem symbolic or ironic to the killer. Why else would she be left there to rot? There was not too much blood…it all must have spilled out of her somewhere else. That means she probably wasn’t killed there. She had also had her stomach sliced open. A few of her guts were hanging out. And there was a hideous smell that almost made me faint.

I just can’t believe this has happened. What monster did this? Why did they do this? She didn’t seem like a bad person. Did she really deserve this?

Too make matters worse, there’s only a sheriff in Copper Gorge. He’s clearly in over his head. Nothing like this has probably ever happened in this town. At least, not while he’s been in charge. We finally suggested to him to call for backup, which he did. State police and some detectives are on their way, so we’re stuck here indefinitely. The sheriff did, however, have enough sense to survey the crime scene and call the local doctor (who doubles as the coroner). They’ve hauled her body away and cornered off the crime scene. Well…what they think is the crime scene.

I can’t complain much. I should be thrilled to be in a place that Nancy Drew had once solved a mystery in. I should also be happy this trip turned into an interesting adventure. But…all I want to do is leave because I feel so miserable.

No! We can’t leave, so we might as well try to solve this murder ourselves. It could take days for backup to get here. Camille’s actress deserved better than this. I’m going to make sure that when the police get here, we’ll be able to hand them the culprit! I swear to it!

Time: 10:00 am, Date: June 18th, 2015


	11. Lori's Claim to Fame

Yessica and I were standing amidst the crowd in the local burger joint. The mood was somber. Everyone’s heads were bowed out of respect for the actress. People moved like sloths, completely devoid of energy or joy. Not even the delicious smell of food perked anyone up.

Mr. Romero left us sitting at our table alone. He knew we needed some space. After all that searching, she was dead. All of our hard work and theorizing amounted to nothing. We looked tired and defeated. For me, at least, a throbbing headache was forming. So, instead, he joined Zach at the bar.

Taking a sip of water, I gently set the cup back on the table. “So…” I sighed, making sure to keep my voice quiet. “We still investigating this thing, or what?”

There was no hesitation in Yessica’s answer. “Of course we are!” She fiddled with her straw, pretending to be occupied with stirring her soda. “First thing’s first, we gotta get alibis.”

“Allright! But, who should we talk to first?”

We both looked around the room. Just about everyone was paired up or sitting in a cluster. None of them were alone, except for Rick. His booth was empty.

Without speaking, we both shared the same thought. We grabbed our drinks, weaved through the people, and sat across from him. Rick was hunched over, sniffling and dabbing his eyes with a napkin. I cleared my throat. He glanced upward. A fake smile became plastered on his lips. “Hey guys.” He tried as best he could to sound perky. “What do you want?”

“We came over here to ask you something very important.” Leaning on the table, Yessica stared directly into his brown eyes. “This is going to be hard, but we have to know. Tell us where you were at about an hour ago.” Her stare never wavered.

“I figured you’d two want to know.” Rick gave up on his charade. He pulled out a piece of paper from his overalls. Placing it in Yessica’s hand, he sighed. “Me and Zach were in a meeting with our boss. That’s her number. You can go ahead and call her now if you want.”

With that, he turned away to stare out the window. Yessica and I took that as a sign to leave. We decided that outside would be our best bet for a private conversation. On the porch in front of Fatima’s was the perfect candidate.

Whipping out my phone, I quickly dialed the number. Then, I turned on the speaker, so Yessica could hear. We both waited while it rang for a while. Finally, there was a click, and someone answered.

“Hello!” A bubbly voice greeted. She sounded like one of those typical rich girls, talking slowly as though every single word was vitally important.

Licking my lips, I took a deep breath. “Um...hi. Is this Lori Girard?”

“Of course it is! There’s only one fabulous Lori, and that is me.” She paused to bask in her own glory before continuing. “Who’s calling?”

“This is Natalie Corbalis and Yessica Romero…”

“Huh…I don’t recognize those names which mean you guys aren’t famous. Do I know you from somewhere? Or are you calling about the train tour?”

“I don’t think we’ve ever met. We got your number from Rick Grey, and we just had a few questions.” Yessica chimed in.

“Oh my gosh! You two are taking the mystery tour right now. Is everything to your satisfaction? Because we don’t give any refunds except in the event of a catastrophe. That’s our company policy.”

Tilting my head, I furrowed my eyebrows. “You mean you hadn’t heard yet?”

“About what?”

“…Camille Hurly’s actress is dead.”

Lori remained silent. Probably was stunned by the news. Why did no one tell her, I wondered. Surely the owner would need to know this information. Then again, her body was a recent discovery. Still it made for pretty suspicious behavior on their part.

She finally spoke. “No way! That’s like so frustrated. Kamille was my like best actress. She was literally perfect for playing Camille Hurly.”

“So her actual name is Kamille?” I asked.

“Yes. Not with a C but with a K. Her full name is Kamille Manson. With a name like that, it was like she was destined to be Camille. Plus, she was super sweet to the guests when her character was…alive.”

I jotted that information down while Yessica carried on the conversation. “Do you mind if we ask those questions now?”

“I’ll do whatever I can to help out Kamille.”

Nodding, Yessica scooted closer to the phone. “I understand you’re the owner of this train and the company who puts on the murder mystery tours?”

“Oh yeah. It’s really kind of amazing how I convinced my daddy to buy it. I didn’t expect it would be this much fun, or that it was so profitable. Maybe one day we might start expanding across the country. Spruce up old haunting places and throw massive spooky parties. Wouldn’t that be something…”

“Ehem.” I coughed, trying to stop the conversation from meandering. When that failed, I said, “That’s really interesting, but I don’t think it’s relevant.”

“Oh, right. Sorry. I get a little sidetracked sometimes. Such a scatter-brain Please, continue.”

This time, I decided to pose the next question. “What can you tell us about your employees Zach and Rick?”

“Well…let’s see. Zach is like totally a hunk underneath that beard. He likes cats alot kinda like my boyfriend Tino. Not really all that shy. Lives in Albany. Single. And Rick is the cousin of that guy-oh what was his name? John! The famous TV show host of that supernatural show. Practically begged me to be here. Something about being a ghost enthusiast himself. He lives on the train for right now. Kinda in between apartments right now.”

“What was their relationship with Kamille?”

She had to think about that one. I could hear her faintly humming. Almost like the sound helped her concentrate. Finally, she sighed. “Both really liked her. They were all kinda like best friends.”

“Rick mentioned something about an employee meeting. Was everyone there?”

“They all reported in the conference call on time except Kamille which I thought was odd, but I guess it’s not anymore.”

I furiously wrote as she talked on. The letters were sloppy, and my pen was dying. But, I did manage to finish my notes before it completely gave out.

“Well, Lori,” Yessica smiled. “Thank you for your time. If we have any more questions, would you mind if we called you again?”

“Of course you can call again! Gosh, I want to do everything I can to help. Besides, I’ll probably be locked in this office all day. Got a lot of phone calls I have to make to try to get a replacement. It was nice talking to you both.”

“Thanks again Lori. Bye!” I hung up, and slipped my phone back in my pocket. “That was informative, I guess.”

Yessica agreed. “Yeah. Now we know that both Rick and Zach’s alibi check out. We can officially cross them off the list.”

“Time to get everyone else’s alibi,” I moaned. “This isn’t going to be fun, is it?”

“Hey, as long as we keep this under wraps from my dad, it’ll be easy.”

I rolled my eyes as she walked back to the diner, and muttered, “That’s not what I’m worried about.”


	12. Sleuth Update #6

EvidencePainter-

Location: Dining Car

Subject: Alibis

Everyone was asked by us to provide their alibi for this morning. Here is what they claimed and what we found out through hearsay.

Yuma Glendale: Daughter Neema claims her mother was with her when they got off the train. They went to eat at the burger place and were there until we all heard the news. We confirmed this with the conductor and waitress. Yuma surprisingly absent from train.

Jackie Lipsky: Was not happy about being asked this question. Finally managed to convince her we were just thoroughly documenting everything for the police because the sheriff told us to. Said she browsed Fatima’s shop for a bit (before declaring it was useless and how inaccurate the display was). Got kicked out and proceeded to graveyard. Took pictures there. Started she did not notice anything. Suspicious and placed herself in proximity of the body. We can vouch for Fatima and groundskeeper can vouch for graveyard.

Devan Newman: He went hiking with his family around the gorge. Stated that he got off the train a few minutes after docking. Strange, considering none of the employees can verify that. Wife verified alibi. Slight pause in her voice- hesitation? Is she telling the truth? Was unable to obtain testimony from kids. Said they were too traumatized and resting from the hike. A very flimsy alibi.

Alfred Russo: Tried to lie about knowing Kamille until we confronted him. Admitted they were boyfriend and girlfriend and when she broke up with him, he got upset. Also admitted he was suspicious her fake suicide was attempt to get away from him. Said he pounded on her door thinking she might answer. When she didn’t, he just sulked at the train station. Ticket person confirmed she saw him around, but can’t remember specific times. Again, another flimsy alibi.

Employees: All had a meeting at the train station. Conference call with Lori. She verified everyone except Kamille was there and spoke. No one left the room.

Time: 12:45 pm, Date: June 18th, 2015


	13. A Stinky Idea

“Yessica, what are we doing?” Natalie whined. She trudged along behind me, dragging her feet in the dirt. “We’ve been walking for thirty minutes!”

I refused to answer her. For one thing, if she knew the plan, she would not have come in the first place. Natalie normally was not fond of illegal activities involving dirt and animals. The other reason was simple: she needed to toughen up a bit.

I could hear her smacking her dry lips together. The sun was bearing down upon us, causing her to sweat profusely. Each agonizing step made her groan. Thank God we’re almost there. I can’t take much more of this, I thought.

A few minutes later, I stopped. “We’re here,” I gestured. It was a pitiful stream of water that wound around a sandy hill. A few sparse shrubs had managed to sprout from the ground.

Wrinkling her nose, Natalie was less than impressed. “This is it!” She shouted. “This is what was oh so important that we had to drop everything to come out here!” Crossing her arms over her chest, she huffed. “I thought you said this was going to help us with the case.”

“It will,” I reassured her as I knelt on the ground. Pulling off my backpack, I unzipped it and reached inside. “See, we’ve got to get everybody off the train if we have any hope of snooping around their stuff. What better way to do that then let a wild animal lose?”

Her eyes widened in terror. “We have to capture a wild animal, throw it on the train, and then go capture again?”

“Pretty much.”

I finally managed to dig out Fatima’s fishing net. Not the best way to capture a skunk. A cage would have been better. Oh well, I shrugged.

“No.” Shaking her head, Natalie planted her feet. “This is your crazy idea. I don’t want any part of this.” She sat atop a rock with her legs crossed. There would be no changing her mind.

Sneakily, I took up position in the shrubs. The net was poised. My eyes stared at the trickling stream. Every inch of my body relaxed, and I stopped moving. My breathing was faint, and my heartbeat was slow. I settled into the sand, content with lying there for eternity.

We waited. Sat there in silence contemplating life. I thought about trapping techniques, and suppressing the urge to move. I’m pretty sure Natalie wondered why she and I were friends. A lifetime passed. Still, we waited. Watching for signs of movement. I was becoming restless, ready to pounce…

Natalie sucked in a gasp. I could hear her scrambling onto her feet. Backing away from the rock, she almost stepped on top of me. I glared up at her. She pointed in the opposite direction. Whirling around, I grinned.

A striped skunk. The perfect candidate. It lumbered along, blissfully unaware of our presence. Tiptoeing, I came up behind it. When I was close enough, I quickly threw down the net. “Gottcha!” I happily cried. The skunk lifted his back tail and sprayed its stink everywhere. I skillfully avoided it.

“Congratulations,” Natalie rolled her eyes. She held her nose to block out the terrible smell.

Scooping the little guy up, I smiled. His beady black eyes glared at us. Both his teeth and claws were barred. “Don’t worry, skunk. We’re not going to hurt you.”

“Let’s just get out of here.” Natalie turned back toward town and stomped off. I followed suit.

“Oh, come on! You’ve got to admit, this is a good idea. We’ll have everyone running off the train in no time.”

“When this whole plan ends up failing, I’ll deny everything.”

“Nobody’s going to find out.”

“That’s what you said about the zebra incident.”

“Hey! If working at a zoo taught me anything, it’s that kids feeding animals are your worst nightmare.”

“Just because he was feeding the zebra Cheetos doesn’t give you the right to traumatize him!”

“Traumatized is a harsh word…”

“Oh yeah. Chastising him in front of his whole class while forcing him to pick up every stray piece of trash while steamrolling the teacher and grabbing him by the ear. That’s not humiliating in any way.”

We continued arguing the whole way back until we got close to town. Now came the tricky part: getting the skunk on the train without anyone noticing. I sent Natalie out ahead. She casually strolled toward the dining car. I, on the other hand, had to duck behind every corner I could find. It wasn’t easy, but I finally managed to make it there unseen.

Natalie was propped against the door, staring into the blue sky. She heard me approach, and lowered her head. Eyes glazed over, it appeared she had been zoning out. “Anyone see you coming?” she asked.

“Nope,” I nodded.

“Good,” she reached for the door handle. Glancing at me one last time, she frowned. “You still sure about this?”

“Absolutely sure. Now hurry up.”

Sighing, she pried open the door, and stepped back. I carefully released the skunk. He fell out of the net and scurried into the other room. Slamming the door shut, Natalie still looked worried. She ushered me away from the train, claiming we needed to be as far away as possible. So, we took up shelter in the burger joint.

It did not take long. A high pitched scream rang out. Everyone jerked their heads toward the train. Devan and his wife leapt onto the ground, clinging to their children’s’ wrist. Both were pale from fear.

The other guests also began filing out. Jackie and Alfred seemed more annoyed than anything else. Neema erupted into a coughing fit. Dad held his nose as he walked toward us.

“There’s a skunk on the train,” he informed us. “Someone must’ve left one of the doors open and it crawled inside. Now we gotta wait for animal control on top of the police.”

“We could catch it,” I offered. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Natalie cringe.

Dad raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that? Because you don’t have to. This is still a vacation…”

“I know. I just don’t want the little guy to get hurt.”

“Well…” He fiddled with his fingers while he hesitated.

Please say yes, I silently begged.

“Allright. I guess you two can give it a try.” He caved.

Jumping out of my seat, I smiled. “Great! We’ll get right on it.” I grabbed ahold of Natalie’s hand. She reluctantly followed onto the train.

We bounded up the steps, and entered through the caboose. Natalie continued expressing her doubts the further along we went, but I ignored them. Something important was on this train. It was only a matter of time before we would find it.


	14. Sleuth Update #7

MysteriousSymphony-

This smell is so bad! I will never forgive EvidencePainter for this. I can definitively say that skunk spray smells worse than Waverly’s dumpster. Seriously! Was this the only way we could clear the train? Granted, it worked, but that’s not the point!

This skunk is mean too. Hissed at me a few times. Skitters everywhere and somehow can find every little hiding spot. Just when we think we’ve cornered it, it takes off again. I keep telling EvidencePainter that we should leave it until we’re done, but she insists she doesn’t want it contaminating any potential evidence. Plus, she doesn’t want to hurt it.

Ugh! Enough about the stupid skunk. EvidencePainter can catch it herself since this was her brilliant idea. I’m going to theorize.

So far, my suspicions rest on Russo. He kept that “special connection” a secret from us. He had the motive and he stayed behind on the train. I know for a fact Kamille (not a typo. Actual actress’s name) never left this train until she was dead.

But, I suppose Devan is equally suspicious. He seems sad, but there’s just something about him I can’t place. Almost like, he’s got something bubbling underneath his skin. His wife’s not much better. She tried hard to hide her trembling hands. Did not work real well, at least I noticed it. Nothing too solid on him though. Would need more evidence to change my mind.

Yuma and Jackie are both just weird. It’s actually kind of surprising how apathetic they are. They carry on like nothing has happened? Do they just not care? Does it not affect their lives at all? Could one of them have killed her in cold blood and show no remorse? Do they have a reason for hating her? So many unanswered questions.

Perhaps this case isn’t as straightforward as I thought. I’m sure snooping around will give us some evidence. After all, no one got a chance to grab anything. There’s a wealth of stuff to go through, so stay tuned to see what we come up with.

Time: 2:00 pm, Date: June 18th, 2015


	15. Scene of the Crime

Now that everyone was gone, the train was eerily quiet. Our footsteps were muffled by the carpet. Our breathing was slow. I was not really sure why we were so silent. Perhaps it was to not scare away the skunk.

We concentrated hard with our eyes glued to the floor. Cautiously inching forward, I would glance around before continuing. The methodical search dragged on for quite a bit of time. My lower back began to ache, and my eyes began to water. I could not help but wonder how much longer this would take.

I finally gave up. Straightening out my back, I winced as it loudly popped. A part of me wanted to proclaim this was hopeless. Who would just leave a clue or murder weapon lying around on the floor? But, I knew better than to say it out loud. Yessica would kill me.

While I stretched, she continued to snoop. She chose to squat every few steps, and took time to examine the base boards and doors for anything suspicious. Probably looking for blood spatter, I guessed. Or stray fibers of any sort.

Turning on my heels, I stared at one of the doors. It was exactly like the others: a rich black wood with a brass knob and faded ornate carvings of flowers. The plaque indicated this was room 113. A thought suddenly struck me as I glanced back at Yessica. “Hey, didn’t Rick say that 113 was Kamille’s room?”

“Yeah,” she nodded while pushing herself back up on her feet.

I figured saying, we should check it out, would be redundant. Approaching the door, I grabbed the knob. It felt cold despite the warm air. I turned it. A loud creaking sound greeted us as we entered. I blinked, trying to adjust to the semidarkness. The blinds were drawn shut. A few rays of sunshine managed to shine through. Not enough to illuminate more than the nightstand.

“What do you see?” Yessica asked.

I sighed. “Nothing much. Kinda hard to make anything out with the curtains. Hang on.” Before I could take a single step forward, Yessica grabbed my shoulder and yanked me back.

“Don’t just go waltzing in! There could be evidence littered all over the floor you could step on, or blood spatter you might disturb. We don’t know what’s in here!” Reaching for her belt, she unhooked her powerful flashlight. “Use this.”

Grumbling, I snatched the flashlight. Leave it to Yessica to be completely paranoid about destroying evidence. I mean, it was a necessary precaution, but we had not exactly found anything worthwhile. What makes her think we would find anything important in here?

Nonetheless, I obeyed. The light switched on, and my jaw immediately dropped. One giant puddle of blood covered the carpet. Her primrose pink bed-sheet was soaked. Stains dotted the ceiling and the lampshade and the curtain. Strewn across the bed and floor was the contents of her black suitcase. Some were still pristinely folded.

“See anything?” Yessica tried to peek over my shoulder.

Thinking quickly, I slammed the door shut, and clung to my chest. “Um…” I stammered. My whole body trembled. “I think…we just found the crime scene.”

“Really?” Barreling past me, Yessica leapt into the room. She carefully maneuvered her way around, scrutinizing every detail. Even she seemed slightly phased by the amount of blood. Had to swallow a couple of times. But she was handling it way better than me.

After surveying the room, she pulled out her phone. Snap! She took several pictures. I, on the other hand, remained in the hallway, sitting on the floor by a grate. My hand was over my mouth. I wanted to puke.

“What’s this?” Bending over, Yessica pulled a little plastic bag from her pocket. She scooped up something shiny. Strolling back into the hallway, she quietly shut the door. “Can you tell what it is? I found it on the floor.”

Scooting closer, I hoped whatever she took out of the room was not covered in blood. I was not sure how much more I could take. She plopped the bag into my hand. Holding it up to the light, I sighed with relief. “Just a locket,” I said. A silvery locket not drenched in blood.

“Wonder who it belongs to?”

I shrugged. “Probably Kamille’s. Or someone who knew her at least. Why else would it be in her room?”

Going silent, Yessica began to pace. Now that the smell of blood was not clouding my nose, I started to feel less queasy. I pushed against the vent to help hoist myself up. My legs felt shaky. Nothing a few slow, deep breaths could not fix.

“Okay, I think I feel a bit better now.” Running my fingers through my hair, I nervously chuckled. “Let’s promise never to do that again.”

Yessica patted my shoulder. “Can’t make that promise.” She winked.

I returned the gesture by brushing off her hand. She doubled over laughing. “Har har, you’re so funny,” I grumbled, though I was grinning. “Okay, fine. You win. High five.”

She stopped, raised her hand, and suddenly frowned. Cocking her head, she asked. “Um…Natalie. Did you cut your hand just now?”

“What?” I lifted my hand, and was shocked to find blood smeared on my palm. Meticulously, I checked for cuts. There were none. “I don’t think I have a cut. Where did this blood come from…”

“Down there,” Yessica pointed to beneath the grate. Some tiny drops of blood were splattered on the base board. Smiling, she brought out her prized pocket knife. She unscrewed the grate, and easily pulled it off.

A knife glittered in the dim light. Almost as if it was a beacon. Excitedly, I grabbed another one of Yessica’s bags, and slid the knife inside. Finding the hidden weapon was an unexpected stroke of luck.

“Well…looks like someone had to make a quick getaway, so they stashed the knife in here.” I glanced at Yessica, who seemed like she was barely paying attention. “Hello?” I snapped my fingers. “Don’t you agree.”

“Yeah, I agree with you,” she calmly turned toward another door. “And I think it’s about time we search the other rooms. Don’t you?”

“Sure,” I shrugged again. Though, I was a bit hesitant. Sure, prowling around in other people’s room seemed like our only option. Especially since the murder had occurred on the train. But, there were just so many of them. The task seemed daunting.

And yet, if there was something else to be discovered, I was determined to undertake this thorough search. Nothing was going to stop us from getting to the bottom of this. Not even an evil skunk.


	16. Sleuth Update #8

EvidencePainter-

Location: Kamille’s Room

Subject: Crime Scene

Assessment: Blood soaked into bed sheets, but not much on floor. Most likely due to victim being cut, forced onto bed, and stabbed there. Suitcase laying open on desk with clothes dumped inside. Not folded, so victim was in a rush. Scared of someone? Stole the gemstone? Preplanned escape from contract? Another reason? No visible hair on body, but wounds on arms. Had time to throw up arms and nothing else. Whoever it was surprised her. She was still dressed, so it was presumably not a sexual assault. No foot prints from shoe or blood smears anywhere. Possibly knowledgeable of murder investigations? Or lucky coincidence? Stabbing signifies rage. This was not their first encounter together. Door intact, so there was no break in. Did she let the killer in? Did they just sneak in? Was the door unlocked before? Or did they pick up the lock? Plenty of questions, but not much answers.

Evidence:

Knife- Found behind grate in a pipe. Has blood on it.

Silver Locket- Found on the floor in room. Dropped in struggle? Cannot get open.

Batteries- Found outside room beneath rug. No idea where they go to. Typical double AA, but weird brand called Whatta.

Conclusion: Unable to give one at this time except to say someone really hated this woman.

Objective: Keep hunting for clues.

Time: 3:00 pm, Date: June 18th, 2015


	17. Krolmiester Insight

Our search of the other rooms yielded plenty of interesting clues. First, we traveled to Devan’s place. It was the largest, seeing as how he came with his entire family. We focused mainly on his briefcase. Stacks of Krolmiester documents were inside. That, coupled with some strange messages Natalie found on his phone, definitely had me pondering.

Next was Alfred’s room. I was on edge the whole time. Kept thinking he might have snuck back on board. Luckily, we were not in there long. There was really only his computer and a small silver key we spotted in a drawer. The key opened the locket, showing a lovely picture of Kamille and Alfred hugging each other. The computer (which we got access to after figuring out his password was kittykat…which is lame) listed quite a few blackmail emails. Mainly just him shouting that he would tell the police where she was, and something about a scandal. Not much detail there.

After that was Jackie’s sleeping compartment. She had a lot of books. They were jammed in almost every corner, and stacked about three feet high. I found the Whatta batteries while Natalie discovered an article. Also, Natalie searched through her bag and found keys, which she thought was relatively suspicious. I did not have the heart to tell her I kind of disagreed.

We finally came upon Yuma’s room at the end of the hall. Natalie unlocked the door. That same annoying creak rang in my ears as it swung open. Lori should really invest in some grease, I thought to myself.

We stepped inside. I was surprised to find it was very well kept. Her bags were still packed up. The bed appeared to never have been slept in. Towels hung neatly in the bathroom. It was nothing like our room, which looked like our suitcases and beds had exploded, scattering all over the floor.

Natalie started wandering through the room. She diligently checked underneath the bed and the nightstand. With my eyes scanning the room, only one thing caught my attention. A powder blue purse with gold buckles hung from the closet. Sticking out the top was what appeared to be a journal.

Standing on my toes, I snagged the booklet. It had rough leather skin and worn yellowed pages. I opened it to the first page, wrinkling my nose as it was greeted by the musty smell. Staring down at the page, I admired the calligraphy. Each letter had been painstakingly etched in gothic cursive with black ink.

Then, I actually started to read the entries. My eyes widened. The word delusional instantly sprang into my head. “Hey, Natalie,” I waved her over.

Brushing the dust off her hand, she stood up. “Find something?” She asked.

“Listen to this,” sucking in a deep breath, I read, “The young woman has vanished. It is an omen of the highest warning. Restless spirits scream in my ears. They shout their discontent to the heavens. Another has joined them, awaiting peace that will never come. She walks among them now, an ethereal being consumed by sorrow. I have seen her roam these halls. It causes a disturbance among them. Be still, my ghosts, for I am the bringer of your salvation. A savoir amongst the living who keeps you at bay…”

Natalie blinked in awe. “She really wrote all that?”

“Yep,” I slammed the journal shut, and started to rub my temple. “Seems like she’s not the most stable person here. But the question is, did she take her delusion too far? Or, is she harmless?”

While mulling over this question, I suddenly felt my phone start to vibrate inside my pocket. Who’s calling me? I wondered. After checking the screen, I recognized the number. I pushed the call button.

“Hey, mom. What’s up?”

“Hi, honey!” Mom’s chipper voice was a welcomed reprieve from the dreary mood. “I was just calling to check up on you guys. Called your dad first and he said you two were on the train dealing with a skunk problem…”

“Yeah. Somehow a skunk got on board, and we volunteered to take care of it.”

“You mean you volunteered me!” Natalie chimed in.

“What did she say?”

“Hang on, mom,” I instructed. Pulling the phone away from my ear, I adjusted the volume and enabled the speaker. “Okay, you’re on speaker.”

Natalie waved. “Hi, Mrs. Romero!” She greeted.

“Hi, Natalie!” Mom paused. I could faintly hear the sound of her furious typing in the background. “So tell me, how much fun are you girls having? I hear the mysteries can get a little exciting and intense. Are you two winning? Ah, who am I kidding? The way you two work, you’re probably almost done figuring out who-dun-it.”

“Well…” Natalie fiddled with her fingers. She was attempting to find a smooth way to bring up the conversation of murder. “Not exactly. You see…we’re kinda stuck in Copper Gorge because someone died on the train…and we’re waiting for the state investigators to arrive.”

There was a long moment of silence, followed by, “Oh my god! How awful!”

“Yeah. Her name was Kamille Manson. She was one of the actors for the tour.”

“Oh,” Mom groaned. “Not poor Kamille! She was such a sweet girl.”

“Woah woah woah! Wait a second,” I cried out. Everyone stopped talking. Natalie stared at me. Probably wondering the same thing. “You knew Kamille?”

“Well of course I knew Kamille! She used to work for Krolmiester a year ago. The friendliest secretary I’d ever met. Practically everybody knew her. She just had this way of brightening up your day.”

Natalie raised an eyebrow. “Then, why did she quit all of a sudden?”

“I think the pressure was starting to get to her. A lot of clients started suffering massive failures of their security systems, and were getting robbed. Most of them are suing the company in fact. Anyone who handled the files was considered a suspect because they thought there might be a leak in information. Kamille packed up soon afterwards, and disappeared.” Mom let loose a sigh. “It’s too bad she ended up this way.”

This was certainly some interesting new information. I made a mental note of these clues before responding. “That’s all we’ve really got to report. The skunk is still eluding us, so we’ve got to go. Bye, mom, and don’t work too hard.”

“Okay! Bye sweetie.”

I hung up. Neither Natalie nor I said a word. We just quietly resumed our search for the skunk. But my mind was racing a thousand miles per minute. Kamille was a part of Krolmiester at some point. Mom said everyone knew her. I wondered if Devan had as well. It was definitely worth checking into later.

For now, however, we were stuck with this annoying task. Maybe next time, I could find a better way to clear the train. One that did not involve hunting for a wild animal.


	18. Sleuth Update #9

MysteriousSymphony-

Finally, we were victorious! That damn skunk is no longer our problem. We are the mighty skunk conquerors. Fear us!

Sorry guys. We finally captured it and I think its stink has started messing with my brain.

Okay, in all seriousness, we’ve done a lot of sleuthing today. Never fails to make me exhausted. I’m sure EvidencePainter informed you guys on some of the clues we found, so I’ll try not to repeat what she said.

First off, we went snooping through people’s stuff and discovered a few interesting things. Turns out Whatta is a battery brand Jackie uses for her camera. How’d it get all the way to Kamille’s place? Hmmm. We also saw papers in her bag that revealed Kamille was Jackie’s student. Ratted out her research. That’s something to be mad about. Not to mention the employee keys hiding in her purse. I’d say she’s a pretty strong suspect.

Then, we took a look at Yuma. Boy, is she weird. Her journal babbles on and on about ghosts and superstitions. Apparently, she thought Kamille’s disappearance was a bad omen causing spirits to become restless. Could she have killed her? Who knows? Not me.

After intense labor, I managed to get the locked open. Guess who’s picture was inside? If you said Kamille and Alfred, then get yourself a celebratory cookie. Yep. Mister I’m Totally Over Her was lying. We sort of “borrowed” his computer and discovered blackmail emails to try and win her back. Of course, he can’t be bothered to explicitly state what he had on her. His motives were clear: he wanted her to get back together with him. Can you say prime suspect?

Devan isn’t fairing much better. Got ahold of his phone, and don’t know what to make of it. Gets an awful lot of texts from someone named Ravine about hunting and basketball. The real important stuff was Krolmeister documents. Why does he have them? He isn’t allowed to take those out of his office. Coupled with the fact that plenty of Krolmeister clients are being robbed makes for a pretty convincing argument.

Still no match for the shoe print. We haven’t found any…wait. No! EvidencePainter tells me she spotted something. Yes! It’s Yuma’s shoes she was wearing earlier and they’re caked in blood. She’s got quite a bit of explaining to do. Gotta go. Stay sharp sleuths!

Time: 4:00 pm, Date: June 8th, 2015


	19. Zach's Confession

Hot water rolled over my body. I diligently scrubbed every inch of myself with the flaky bar of strawberry scent soap. The smell of skunk still lingered in the air. I probably would never forgive Yessica for that.

My muscles ached. I leaned against the cold tiled wall. Digging my fingers into my scalp, I lathered up my hair with shampoo. My thoughts were aimless. I was content just soaking in the heat, and allowing my troubles to melt away.

The door swung open. A blast of cold air caused me to shiver. “Natalie!” Yessica called.

I peeked my head out from behind the shower curtain. A part of me was irritated by her interruption, but another part was intrigued. “What?” I shouted back.

“I’m going to get us some snacks. You want anything?”

I thought about it for a brief moment. “Something with chocolate in it. Oh! And some cheese.”

“Chocolate and cheese. Got it! Be back in a bit.”

She left, allowing me to sink back into my state of bliss. I rinsed my hair. Then, I applied some conditioner to smooth out the tangles. It was not long before I finally had to leave. Wrapping a towel around my body, I walked out to the bedroom with a brush in hand.

To my surprise, I noticed faint knocking at the door. Had Yessica locked herself out? Or it could be Mr. Romero checking up on us. I took a couple of steps forward. “Who is it?” I asked. Whoever it was hesitated. Listening intently, I wondered whether I should ask again.

“It’s Zach,” he finally replied.

I waited for him to offer up an explanation. When he did not, I sighed. “Okay. Is there something you want?”

“I’d…um…” he stammered. Almost like he was trying to find the right words. “I kinda was hoping to talk to you guys. You know…about Kamille…I haven’t been one hundred percent truthful…”

My heart nearly skipped a beat. Was this a confession? Or did he see something? Either way, I knew I could not pass up this opportunity. “Hold that thought, Zach. I just got out of the shower, and have to get dressed. I’ll be with you in two minutes.”

Scrambling, I threw on some comfortable clothes. My hair was still dripping wet when I answered the door. Zach stood there. He just looked awful. His gaze seemed far off. His hands were jammed into his pocket. His hair was barely combed, and his shirt was stained. It was as if all the life had been drained out of his body, leaving only an empty husk.

Without acknowledging me, he trudged into the room. Each step appeared to be a conceited effort. Something was weighing heavy on his mind. Zach plopped onto my bed. Tears pooled in his eyes. “I just…can’t believe she’s gone,” he muttered. “And it’s all my fault.”

“Slow down, Zach,” I joined him, and patted his back. “Let’s start from the beginning…”

Yessica suddenly burst in through the door. In her hand was a plastic bag filled with goodies. Digging around inside the bag, she interrupted. “Found out they sold Koko Kringle bars, so I got you one of those. I also couldn’t remember if you liked pepper jack or cheddar cheese. I bought both.” Looking up, she caught one glimpse of Zach, and her smile dropped. She slid onto her bed. “What’s this all about?”

I could sense she already kind of knew. Asking was merely a formality. “Zach was going to tell us something about Kamille. Right?” I coaxed.

Zach nodded. “Yeah…” He sniffed, rubbing the tip of his red nose. Breathing deeply, he squeezed his wrist. “I knew Kamille didn’t commit suicide because I helped her fake it.”

That rapid string of words gave Yessica and I pause. “You mean you were in on it from the start?” Yessica did her best to suppress her anger. It did not really work because Zach winced.

“I was worried about her, okay? I went to search everyone’s room, and when I went into mine, she was there. Started talking about someone from her past was on the train, and that she needed to disappear. I came up with the suicide plan. Helped her set it up, and let her stay in my room. Felt like she was safe there.

“But then we got to Copper Gorge. She wanted off. I didn’t want her going to her room without me, but she insisted that I be in that staff meeting. I left her alone…and now she’s dead.” He broke down crying.

The confession was stunning. Yessica and I shared a look. Why tell us now and not when Kamille was murdered? I asked myself. Was it to draw suspicion away from him?

No. I felt deep down in my heart that Zach was incapable of doing this. He was drunk, and drunk people were usually not able to lie very well. That could also explain the timing of his confession. Leaning forward, I grabbed a hold of his shoulders. He sat up.

“I know this is hard for you, Zach, but we need you to focus. Can you remember anything suspicious about that day? Something that struck you as odd or an object that didn’t belong somewhere?”

He thought hard about my question. “Well…I didn’t think much about it at the time, but both Jackie and Alfred were arguing with Kamille at some point. They were brief, and happened right as soon as everyone boarded. Alfred also picked a fight with me later on.” Bowing his head, he clung to the bed sheets. Guilt was written all over his face.

“I think you need to go get some rest,” Yessica stated. She grabbed his arm, and helped him onto his feet. Ushering him to the door, she closed it quickly behind him. Then, she returned to the bed, and handed me the candy bar.

I tore off the paper, and shoved a piece into my mouth. Rich, crunchy chocolate melted on my tongue. “I just can’t believe it.” I said while chewing. “He knew about her this whole time, and he only comes to us when he’s drunk to say anything about it.”

“I doubt it was just the alcohol. I’d say guilt tore him up more than anything,” Yessica theorized. In her hand was a bag of salty chips. She licked her fingers. Sitting on her lap was our notes. Beside her was our makeshift bag of clues.

“Well…” I rested my elbows on my knees and shrugged. “What do we do now?”

Standing up, a sly grin formed on Yessica’s face. “I think it’s about time we go and confront some of the suspects.”


	20. Sleuth Update #10

EvidencePainter-

Location: Sleeping Car

Subject: Zachery Roberts

Assessment: Extremely depressed about coworker’s loss. Having trouble coping, so much so he’s resigning from this job. Each time he mentions Kamille, his eyes water, lips tremble, and face turns red. They were close. Perhaps more than coworkers? Friends? Soulmates? Boyfriend and Girlfriend? He won’t say. Kept storing down at feet. Opposite of his usual demeanor. Death has changed him. Never experienced death before? Or again, just particularly attached to Kamille. Did not speak of family. None? Did he loose contact? Purposefully ran away? Ashamed of what he’s doing? Needs to be counselled on this death as soon as possible.

Evidence:

Heard Jackie and Alfred both had argued with Kamille. About what he could not say.

Got into fight with Alfred, but won’t say why. What was it about?

Did not see Devan get off train!

Conclusion: Must start eliminating suspects.

Objective: Confront suspects (and get Zach help!).

Time: 5:00 pm, Date: June 18th, 2015


	21. The Siderodromophobic

Neema glared at us with her arms crossed. “What do you two want?” she growled.

Natalie and I sat across from her on a green sofa. Dragging her here was not an easy task. She had made everything difficult with her grouchy mood. It was honestly starting to irritate me a little bit.

I matched her posture, and raised an eyebrow. Where had this attitude come from? I wondered. Was there something she was hiding? Perhaps it was her nerves causing this sudden mood swing. Pre-teen hormones? At the moment, there was no clear answer.

“We’re here for answers,” I said. “And we aren’t leaving this room until we get them.”

My tough tone apparently worked. It seemed to strike some fear into Neema’s heart. Her fingers began to twitch, and her eyes darted toward the hallway. Looking for an escape, I noted. Natalie seemed to catch that as well because she was furiously writing in her notebook.

“Answers?” Neema’s voice was shaky. She gulped. “About what?”

“About your mother’s strange behavior we’ve witnessed throughout this trip.”

Moaning, Neema slapped her forehead. “Is that all?” She flopped back into her chair, looking even more broody than before. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

Natalie and I shared a glance. Well, this was unexpected, we both seemed to silently agree. Scooting forward, I resituated myself on the cushions. “We didn’t deem it necessary until now.” I answered with a shrug.

“When you think you can pin this on my mother?” She snapped. Eyes narrowing, she drew in a deep breath. “I know you and everyone else on this train thinks she’s crazy, and it’s always the crazy lady who killed someone, right? Well this time, you’re wrong!” Tears of frustration trickled down her cheeks. “My mother’s not a killer!”

Cocking my head, I stared at her in confusion. “I never said we thought your mother was the killer.” I turned to Natalie. “Were you thinking that?”

“No…not really.” Natalie shook her head.

Neema stared blankly at the both of us. Biting her lower lip, she sighed. “Fine! I’ll cooperate.”

“Good,” I nodded toward Natalie. She flipped a page, and I glanced at the words. “Your mother has a tendency to act a bit…strange from time to time. Like the other day when she was really scared of something. What triggers these episodes?”

“My mother…strongly believes in the supernatural, and all that garbage. She sees what she thinks are ghosts. That’s usually about when the meltdown starts.”

“You make it sound as though this is an everyday occurrence. Like you’re numb to it. How often does it happen?”

“Some days are better than others,” was her only comment. Shame burned on her cheeks. She was embarrassed by her mother. Probably had a strong urge to run away, and go find a new family to live with. One that did not come with the burden of babysitting her parent.

“Okay,” Natalie clapped her hands together to fill the void of silence. “Next question.”

Shaking myself from my daze, I straightened out my back. “Right…” I looked down at the paper again to get my bearings. “Your mother also doesn’t seem to stick around very much. Most of the guests have hardly seen her, and she has a habit of abandoning you…”

“My mother does not abandon me!”

Neema’s sudden outburst startled Natalie. Staring at the subject, she seemed perplexed that one little girl could pack that much anger into her voice. I, however, had anticipated that reaction. So she really does love her mother despite everything, I thought.

“Then why is she never around?” I countered. My chin rested on my hand while I patiently waited.

There was a long pause. It was followed by a grimace. “She’s afraid of trains.”

Now that was really a curve ball. Though, when I actually started contemplating her answer, it all did start to make sense. Darting off the train, refusing to get back on, clinging to her daughter’s arm, barely able to function in that environment. The explanation pretty much summed up everything except…

“What about the blood stained shoes we found? They’re your mother’s size, and we saw her wearing them when she got off the train.”

“What?” Neema seemed genuinely surprised. “You mean those old grey tennis shoes?”

“Yes.”

Erupting into laughter, Neema doubled over. She clutched her stomach. Finally, after a few minutes of this, she managed to choke out some words. “That’s hilarious! You think those stains are blood!”

“If not, then what are they?” I asked.

“Red paint,” Neema calmed herself down to elaborate. “Mom and I a few days back decided to paint my room red. She spilled the paint all over her shoes. I kept telling her to get a new pair, but she refused. One of her quirks, I guess.”

We were quiet for a few minutes, allowing the shock of our blatant error to sink in.

“Is that all? Or am I still stuck here with you two morons?” Neema sneered.

“We’re done, for now.” Natalie closed the notepad, and folded her hands in her lap. “But you two aren’t out of the woods just yet. If we have any more questions, we’re going to track you down again.” She assured the girl.

Without a word, Neema stood up and stomped off. She flashed us one final dirty look before vanishing around the corner.

“Whelp,” I sighed. “We can officially check her off the list.”

Cocking an eyebrow, Natalie gasped. “You mean…you’re actually declaring someone innocent?” She dramatically flopped backwards. “Who are you, and what have you done with the real Yessica?”

“Har har,” I rolled my eyes, and stood up. My legs felt like jello. I could sense my knee shifting slightly out of place. While resituating it, I spoke. “Let’s move on, shall we?”

“All right. We’ll go find our next subject,” Natalie reluctantly agreed.


	22. Sleuth Update #11

Mysterious Symphony-

Whelp, I bet you’re thinking we’ve got to be getting close to solving this case by now. There’s so much evidence should be a snap, right?

Wrong! Turns out everything we had on Yuma can be crossed out. Weird behavior-scared of ghosts. Abandons daughter a lot-fear of trains. Blood stained shoes-paint stained shoes. And no connection to Kamille whatsoever.

Honestly, this is getting a little frustrating. How come a little girl can come up with those explanations off the top of her head? I couldn’t remember all that if I tried. Fabricated, perhaps?

I guess it does help us in the long run. One suspect has been completely eliminated (though EvidencePainter would never admit that). No point in really talking about her anymore. Good day sleuths. I’ll keep you posted on our progress.

Time: 5:30 pm, Date: June 18th, 2015


	23. The Creep

“You go ask him.”

“No…you go.”

“Come on, Natalie! You’re the one he keeps staring at. Go talk to him.”

“But what if something I say sets him off?”

“Then we’ve got a train full of witnesses and a sheriff who can detain him. Besides, if he even so much as threatens you, I’ll be over there in a flash.”

I nervously tugged on my fingers. My back remained pressed against the wall. Both Yessica and I were awkwardly staring at Alfred. Perched on the stool at the bar, he kept lifting his head to gaze back at me. That same hungry look ever present. In front of him was a steaming mug of coffee.

A feeling of dread weighed heavy on my chest. Deep down, I knew Yessica was right. I would have to be the brave one this time around, and go ask the tough questions. It was obvious he had a slight affinity toward me.

But…each time I looked at him it gave me chills. I could not stand to be anywhere near him. Seeing the darkness in his eyes instantly shift to warm and charming was unsettling.

Gulping, I sighed. “Okay…but you owe me big time for this!”

Yessica did not respond. She just nudged me forward before I got any bright ideas of escaping. I marched forward, keeping my mind focused on the plan. Get in, get him to answer, secretly record him with my phone, and have Yessica nearby making notes and observations. Simple, right? Should be a piece of cake.

As I approached the bar, he stood up. He was rather tall-at least one and a half feet over me-with a toned body. One that could easily overpower me…

Shaking these thoughts out of my head, I plastered on a smile. “Um…hi…” I did not know how to start off the uncomfortable conversation. After witnessing a bit of his temper, I knew my words had to be chosen carefully.

Luckily, Alfred was the conversation instigator. “Wanna seat?” he gestured to the stool beside him. I pretended to gladly accept his offer, and he politely pulled out the chair for me. He patiently waited until I had settled before sliding back onto his own seat. He raised his glass to his lips while asking, “What brings you over here?”

“Well,” I paused, wondering how I could casually bring this topic up. “I had a couple of follow-up questions about Kamille…”

He set his mug back down. “I thought I had answered all those questions.” His fingers were clamped on the ceramic handle. They appeared strong enough to snap the cup in half. Plenty strong to snap someone’s neck in two, or to subdue and strangle them…

Instinctively, I gently placed my hand on his wrist. My touch seemed to drain some of the anger out of him. I decided I would try to make answering me as appealing as possible. “Look… I know this is hard for you, seeing how Kamille was the love of your life and there’s no way you could replace her. But, we have to ask everyone-not just you- the hard questions.”

“Just seems like the two of you are trying to pin this thing on me, when I didn’t do it!” He wearily eyed Yessica with a suspicious glare.

“Trust me when I say this, Alfred.” I placed a hand over my heart as though I was making a solemn vow. “We’re thoroughly looking into everybody aboard this train. And I, personally, believe that you have nothing to hide.”

He pondered my words for a brief moment. Probably trying to gauge whether or not I was lying. I tried to muster up as much sincerity as possible. You do believe him, I told myself. You want to help him.

It worked. He nodded, and rested his elbows on the table. “What do you wanna ask?”

“There were a couple of things I wanted to straighten out.” I let go of his wrist, and brushed a stray hair back into place. “While we were searching for the skunk, we found a few things belonging to you that caught our attention.” Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the silver locket. I pushed it in front of him. “This is yours, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” some tears started welling in his eyes. I had a sinking feeling they were not genuine. Picking up the locket, he turned it in his fist. “I slid it under the door after I tried entering her room. I figured this was all a stunt to get away from me. Just wanted her to have a reminder of us…when we were happy.”

“I understand.” Extending my open palm, I added. “I hate to do this but…”

“You need it for evidence,” he dropped it back in my hand. With a long face, he bowed his head. “It’s allright. I want to know who the killer is. I’ll do anything to help.”

“Okay. What about your fight with Zach? Can you tell me what happened there?”

His shoulders slumped forward, making it look like he was hunched over. “Whelp. I’m ashamed to admit it, but it was me being foolish. I had some crazy idea that he was trying to steal Kamille away from me, and helping her hide. Went and told him to stay away from my territory. He didn’t respond all that well, and things got heated. I finally ended up pulling back.”

I kept silent as he talked on. Something about the way he said his territory irked me. Kamille was a person who was free to choose her relationships. Not his personal piece of shiny gold to horde, and flaunt. My lips were pressed together in a thin line, locking all these thoughts inside. When he finished, I elected to ignore his statements, and move onto my final, the most painful, question.

“Why were you blackmailing Kamille?”

Slamming his fists on the table, he clenched his jaw. “I wasn’t blackmailing her!” Like a boiling pot, he was about to bubble over with rage. “She shouldn’t have left me! I was just trying to win her back.”

I was grateful no one but Yessica was watching us. Or anywhere in earshot for that matter. Frowning, I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t lie to me,” I firmly stated as though I was speaking to a five year old. That, apparently, was enough to deflate his ego. He simmered back down, and started finally speaking the truth.

“I was desperate to get her back. Just had to find some way to sway her. Figured blackmailing was my only option.” He buried his face in his hands. “I knew it was a stupid idea.” His eyes shifted back to me. “How the hell did you know about that?”

I shrugged. “You find a lot of things people leave out when you’re hunting for a skunk.”

That statement sent him into a roaring laughing fit. He clapped his hands together, and doubled over. The sudden change in mood unnerved me. I scooted my stool over. Slapping me on the back, he grinned. “Oh, you’re so funny, ya know that?”

“So I’m told,” rubbing my thighs, I glanced up toward the clock. “Oh, I’m going to miss our next interview if I don’t hurry. Thanks for doing this. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem. See you around.” Refocusing on his coffee, Alfred acted as though nothing happened.

Thank God I’m free! I thought while I stood up. Smiling, I turned to leave. Alfred’s hand suddenly reached out, and clamped down on my arm. Panic gripped me. I tried wiggling free, but it was no use. Shooting him a confused stare, I stifled a cry. What was he going to do to me?

Pulling me back, he leaned in closer. I could feel his hot breath on my neck. His lips lightly brushed against my ear while he said, “I’ll be in my room later on if you need me for more questions. But…” he motioned toward Yessica. “I’d prefer it if you were alone.”

“Um…I’ll let you know if we have any more questions.” I yanked my arm back, and managed to break free. As quickly as I could, I walked out of the car. Yessica followed close behind, carrying her list of observations.

“Did he hurt you?” She grabbed my arm, checking for any injuries.

Shaking my head, I tossed her my phone. “Don’t ever ask me to do something like that again.”

“What happened?”

Staring blankly ahead, I tightened my fists. “Just listen to the tape,” I replied, unwilling to talk about it. Before she could say anymore, I cut her off. “Let’s just go find Jackie and do her interrogation. I don’t want to think about it.”


	24. Sleuth Update #12

EvidencePainter-

Location: Dinning Car

Subject: Alfred Russo

Secondary Assessment: This man is a jealous creep who has completely gone over the edge with his delusions. I see tears, but feel nothing. What I do feel is he is a danger to any girl he meets. Tendency to become fixated on one woman. Flips between sad to angry in a heartbeat. Set off by insignificant obstacles. Must always remain in control. Super clingy and dependent. Everything you do not want in a guy you’re dating. However…I hesitate to say it is flat out him. Is he the one with the most motive? Yes. But, there is not enough evidence. We didn’t locate a lock pick. We cannot do a finger print analysis because someone decided to open the door. Only a witness ties him there and he said Alfred left right after that. So, he’s capable, but I am not 100% convinced.

Evidence:

None, but his eyes keep shifting up and down MysteriousSymphony. He better damn well stay away from her!

Conclusion: I hope this man dies.

Objective: Keep MysteriousSymphony away from him.

Time: 6:00 pm, June 18th, 2015


	25. The Elitist

“Just what do you two think you are doing? Dragging me here like this. It’s absurd!” Jackie shouted. Her face looked purple as she glowered with anger. Each of her words were emphasized, and filled with disgust. Upturning her nose, she waited for our response.

She acted as though we had committed a major offense against her. In fact, all we had done was politely ask her if we could take a few minutes to clarify some things about the murder. Her haughty reply was completely devoid of any concern. Kamille was nothing to her, I mentally noted.

“We were just hoping to talk some about Kamille and the murder,” Natalie’s voice was strained. She was keeping her sarcastic comments in check. The grip on her pencil was so tight I thought it might snap in half.

Jackie snorted. “What makes you think I’d know anything about that?”

“Quite a few things, actually,” I countered, watching for a mood change. Noticing her hands tense up, I smiled. I gestured to Natalie who produced her phone. While she was scrolling, I asked the first question. “How long have you known Kamille?”

“Not at all,” she kept her statement short, and easy to remember.

I nodded. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Natalie wrote that down while she was searching. “All right,” I shifted in my seat. “Were you aware that Kamille attended University of Arizona?”

“No.”

Natalie made another mark. She started doing her annoying double tap of the pencil. It was the signal she had found a copy of what we were looking for.

Straightening my back, I rested my hands casually on my knees. “Yeah, small world, right? She was getting a degree in history and working under a research project. Very distinguished professor. But, I heard the research project disbanded.” I cocked my head. “It was pretty big news. I’m surprise you didn’t hear about it.”

“I don’t pay attention to frivolous news stories,” she huffed. “They’re too distracting, and lacking substance. Besides, I was not big in the research field. Too much time taken away from teaching students.”

“Well, if teaching keeps you so busy, then what are you doing here?”

“I don’t teach all the time!” Jackie spat. “I am allowed some periods of the year as a reprieve to do whatever I want.” Glaring at us, she curled her lips into a frown. “What compels you to ask these ridiculous questions? You two are just amateur’s, stumbling around with no business butting into these professional affairs. I’m fairly certain you need a degree before you can proclaim yourself an expert. “

She paused. Her eyes widening as if she had an epiphany. “Oh, wait, I understand now. You’re writing a story on this. Think it’ll go into some big newspaper. That’s a riot!” She started chuckling. “Listen, I don’t care how desperate the news is. They won’t take it.”

Shaking my head, I had to contain my laughter. Jackie seemed to be tied up in her own little world, and it was hilarious. But, I kept my cool. “We’re not really interested in selling this story. We’re more interested in the truth. And you haven’t been telling us the truth.”

That earned me a string of obscenities. I was actually thrown off guard a bit. The composed professor apparently had an aggressive streak combined with a sailor’s vocabulary.

“…And to even suggest that I am capable of such a heinous thing is ridiculous.”

I merely glanced toward Natalie who cleared her throat. Holding up her phone in triumph, she read, “Two morning’s ago, at seven o’clock, professor Jackie Lipsky entered her classroom to teach her history class. Little did she know, this class would be her last. Sources tell us that the professor was fired that very day for fabricating her research. One of her research assistants/students-Kamille Manson- was quoted saying that, ‘She would force us to skew the data in favor of her theory.’ And even went so far to claim that, ‘She threatened us whenever we protested.’ Jackie Lipsky refused to comment…” Pausing to take a breath, Natalie smirked. “Need I go on further?”

Jackie’s skin turned pale and clammy. Biting her lower lip, she suddenly seemed a lot less intimidating. More powerless over the situation than before. Guess we’re less amateur than she thought, I cackled in my head.

“Now, Jackie,” I stood up, and linked my hands together behind my back. “How are we supposed to trust you when you’ve lied to us?” Pacing the room, I made it a point to keep my eyes locked on her. “I mean, you can’t expect us to keep this all under wraps. It’s going to come out in the police investigation. There’s really no way out.”

“Fine,” her voice was shakier than before. Still had that hint of resentment to it. Slouching and crossing her arms, she continued. “I knew Kamille personally, though she was a terrible assistant. She was the sole reason I am currently unemployed. Brought bad data to the dean, whining about some dumb made up story to gain her sympathy. All because she couldn’t cut it in my class or as an assistant.” Shaking her head, she sighed. “I just didn’t mention it because I didn’t want to cause a scene with Kamille. What’s past is past.”

I did not believe her side of the story for one second. Going into grilling mode, I stared her down. “If that’s so, then why did we find batteries by her door? Why do you have keys to every room on this train? Why keep any of this information from us?”

“I dropped those batteries to my camera in the hallway, and they rolled away before I saw where they went. That bimbo named Lori gave me full access to the train which I require for my new research. Though, the abhorrent disregard of historical facts has thrown me off the trail. I did not bring any of this up because I felt it wasn’t pertinent information for a couple of uneducated brats who think they can satisfy their lack of self-worth by pretending they actually have a chance at doing something more than just living their pathetic lives.”

Natalie was fuming at Jackie’s speech. Her shaking made it look as though she was about to burst. Turning a shade of red I did not know was possible, she gritted her teeth. “At least we’re not the laughing stock of the academic community.”

“That’s it!” Jackie stood from her chair, and straightened out her skirt. “I will not participate in this game with you two any longer.” Without a goodbye, she stormed out.

“What an arrogant…” Natalie closed her mouth, unwilling to use the crude term she was clearly thinking. Rubbing her temple, she sighed. “Doesn’t anything she said get under your skin? Even a little bit?”

Grinning, I winked at her while patting her on the back. “She’s just grouchy we caught her in so many lies. Trying to undermine our intelligence or skills is her way of making our arguments invalid. I wouldn’t put much stock into what she’s saying.” Pausing for a moment to let that sink in, I decided to opt for a change in subject. “Who’s next on our list?”

She glanced down at the paper. “Devan’s our last person of interest.” Standing up, she folded the shite sheet, and stuffed it into her jean pocket. “Shall we?”

“Yes,” I answered. We exited the room on the hunt for our next interrogation.


	26. Sleuth Update #13

MysteriousSymphony-

Oh, Jackie, how you hate us for daring to speak to you. We common filth are not worthy of your precious time. I mean, it’s not like we’re trying our best to bring justice to a complete stranger because of her horrible demise while you upturn your nose in disgust. Whatever questions we have can wait until the mighty queen of the universe commands it and has descended from her throne.

Seriously! We just want to know what the hell she was doing with a set of keys, her relationship with Kamille, and why batteries were near the crime scene. A simple explanation. That’s all we asked for. But no! Can’t have that, can we? Get stuck listening to a condescending lecture about rude questions, disrespect to elders, and how stupid we are because we have not gone to college.

Wow! I have never hated anyone until I met you, Jackie. Congratulations on breaking my perfect record.

Just…she’s so…holier than thou. That’s it. Her attitude in a nutshell. It’s kind of hilarious when you think about it. She proclaims we suck at investigating and she’s perfect. Um…who got busted for fabricating research results? Sure as hell wasn’t me!

She got mad when I mentioned that. Something about going through her things and privacy. I stopped paying attention after she opened her mouth. Shows how much I care.

I guess I should mention the whole employee key explanation. Had to have access to everywhere on the train so she could do her research. Supposed to put her back on the map so she won’t be a laughing stock among her people. I can tell you right now, she’s not going to redeem herself. Ever!

So, that only leaves one thing: was it her? I don’t think so. Her alibi is pretty solid up until she leaves the store. She’s mad, but doesn’t really want to do anything to further destroy her reputation. Also doesn’t give a damn about Kamille. At least, that’s what it seems like.

That means that at least we don’t have to deal with her anymore. Thank God for that! I’m really trying, guys, but it’s getting so difficult. I need a nap. I’m gonna nap after this. Update you guys later.

Time: 6:30 pm, Date: June 18th, 2015


	27. The Workaholic

It took forever to track down Devan. We looked all over the place. Checked with Fatima, and she said he had not set foot in her store. Knocked on his door, and his wife said he had gone for a snack. Walked to the dining car, and Neema said she was the only one there for a whole hour.

I was getting a bit discouraged when we caught a lucky break. Strolling down the hallway, he was heading back into his room. We caught him, and whisked him off to the interview room. Now, the two of us had him all to ourselves: free to question him for as long as we wanted.

Devan kept glancing down at his phone. Kind of like he was waiting for an important call. I sat poised behind the desk with pencil in hand. Yessica opted to pull up another chair, and placed herself next to the suspect. Leaning back, she folded her hands together in her lap.

“So, Devan,” her voice had a slight edge of tension to it. “As I’m sure you heard, we’ve got some questions for you.”

“About Kamille’s death,” he nodded. His voice sounded tired like he was running on empty. I jotted that observation down while he continued. “Well, I suppose you want to know about my alibi and all the stuff the police will probably want to know…”

I decided to cut in. “Actually, we’ve already got your alibi for the time of the murder. What we really need is to ask about some things we’ve uncovered during our investigation.”

Turning pale, Devan shifted in his seat. Yessica sat up. With her eyes trained on him, she rested her chin on top of her fist. She cocked an eyebrow. And yet, somehow, her lips never curled upward into a smirk. Leave it to Yessica to remain expressionless while interrogating someone.

“That’s not going to be a problem, is it?” She asked. “They’re just a few simple questions. Nothing too intrusive.”

Relaxing just a tad bit, Devan cleared his throat, and nodded. Yessica gave me the silent signal: a quick scratch at her left cheek. Flipping through my notepad, I found my previous notes, and posed my first question. “Okay. The first thing we wanted to know about was if you were aware that Kamille previously worked at Krolmeister in the same building.”

“She was?”

“Yes,” I sighed. My powers of reading people were vastly inept when compared to Yessica. Whether or not his reaction of shock was genuine was for her to decide. Writing down his response, I continued. “She worked as a secretary. Mainly working with a lot of paperwork. Apparently, she was a pretty popular worker. Well liked.” I paused, resting my arms on the desk. “I’m surprised you two have never met before.”

Thinking for a moment, he glared at the two of us. “How’d you two get your hands on that information?”

“We’ve got a friend who’s an employee,” Yessica explained. “She happened to know Kamille. Gave us this tip because she wanted us to find the killer.”

“Oh,” Devan’s glare melted away. Licking his dry lips, he sheepishly glanced to the ground. “Sorry about that. Kromiester is a stickler for confidentiality.”

“It’s fine. But, you still have to answer our question.”

Devan shrugged. “Krolmeister’s a big building with tons of people. I mainly stuck to my office, meetings, and the engineering lab. If she didn’t frequent any of those areas, then I probably never got a chance to meet her.”

Never met due to building size and populous, I wrote. “Okay. Onto the next question.” Shuffling through more paper, I found where I had left off. “Why were there confidential business documents about security in your luggage?”

That question threw Devan completely off-guard. He appeared dumbfounded. Sweat drizzled down his face. Whole body twitching, he tried forming words. To say he was flustered was an understatement.

“Well…” Yessica patiently waited while lightly tapping her foot. “You going to explain yourself? Or should we just assume the worst?”

“I…um…you see…it’s really not what you think…I…” He stammered.

“Here’s another question.” I sniffed, slightly enjoying watching him squirm. “Is this tied to the thefts that have plagued Krolmeister lately?”

Like a balloon, he deflated. His shoulders slumped. His head bowed. His hands dropped out of his lap. “Okay…you caught me.”

Yessica and I were stunned. Was Devan about to make a confession? I flipped on my phone recorder, and eagerly waited for him to continue.

“You see, I’m a bit of a workaholic. It’s…a habit that I’ve been trying to break lately because my wife thinks I spend too much time with that and not enough with the kids. This vacation was supposed to be a sort of get-away–from- it- all type deal. But, when I was packing, I just couldn’t help myself. I stashed those documents in my suitcase. I thought that maybe if I combed through them, I would find out why we were having so many thefts lately. Fat lot a good that did me. If someone tampered with them, they did a hell of a job because I can’t tell any sort of difference. And the files never looked disturb, so I’ve hit a dead end.”

Well that was lame, I thought as I shook my head. “You mean to tell me that you went through all that trouble-breaking the rules and going against your wife-just to do a bit of vigilante work?”

Bowing his head, he nodded while rubbing the back of his neck. “You guys won’t tell the police or my wife about this, will you? I could get into serious trouble.” His lips started to quiver.

Smiling, Yessica patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry,” her voice was now soothing and comforting. “We won’t say a word, honey.”

“Thank you,” with that, he hoped out of his chair, and walked out of the room.

“Well, that was pointless,” I closed my notepad. A throbbing pain began forming around my forehead. I tried rubbing it out, but the headache prevailed. Must be because I’m hungry. I guessed.

Yessica slowly lifted herself out of her chair. She winced as her joints creaked. Taking a moment to stretch, she replied, “Not necessarily. He could be lying or he could have given us important information. We just don’t know yet.”

Sighing, I also jumped out of my chair, and shoved my hands in my pocket. “I think it’s your turn to do the update.”

“Okay,” she grabbed my notes, and glanced at me. Her expression became one of concern. “You feeling all right?”

“Yeah. I’m just starving. You think we could head to the dining car for some food? I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.”

“Sure,” she shrugged. We exited the room, and headed toward the back of the train. Yessica typed away while she walked. I could feel my stomach gurgle in protest. My pace quickened. I think I’m gonna get a milkshake. I thought when we entered.


	28. Sleuth Update #14

EvidencePainter-

Location: Dining Car

Subject: Devan Newman

Secondary Assessment: Always appears nervous and sweaty. Cannot stop glancing around. Guilt perhaps? Fear? Suspicion? Rubbing his fingers a lot like he has an itch. Probably a habit. Seemed eager to answer our questions though. Wants to help in any way possible. Help frame someone else perhaps? Or genuinely concerned. We asked about his business dealings and why Krolmeister documents were in his luggage. He seemed rather stunned. Did not provide a reply for a while. Awkward silence finally ended when MysteriousSymphony brought up the thefts. Got him back on track. Said he is a workaholic who’s trying to discover who is leaking information. Dark bags under eyes coordinate with his story. Begged us not to tell his wife. Why hide it from her? Is it really that big a deal? Maybe there is more to it? Maybe wife complains about it? Either way, we’re not going to. For now. Anyways, we confronted him about Kamille working at his old building. Says he never knew, but only after he asked us how we got that information. Managed to dodge the question. Potentially paranoid about it. Not sure if he did it. Doesn’t appear to be dangerous. Looks, however, can be deceiving. Though, at the moment, there’s nothing currently tying him to the crime scene. Doubtful it is him.

Conclusion: We have no definitive answer after all this time.

Objective: Find what we missed.

Time: 7:00 pm, Date: June 18th, 2015


	29. Shutdown

Sitting in the corner of the dining car, we slouched. Natalie chose to mope with a milkshake in her hand. I drowned my sorrows in a cold, sweet soda. We both were silently mulling over our failures.

I took a moment to observe who was there. Yuma sat with her daughter, and actually seemed a bit calm for once. Alfred lurked behind the bar. His eyes would wander back toward us every once in a while. Devan and his family was nowhere to be seen. And finally, Jackie was shouting at someone over the phone. Something about a contract falling through. To be honest, I was not really listening.

I slurped the brown liquid through the straw. “So, where do you think we go from here?” I asked, though I had a pretty good idea of what her answer would be.

“Honestly, Yessica, I’m this close to thinking we should quit.” She threw her arms up in the air before dramatically flopping onto the table top. With her cheek pressed against the wood, she closed her eyes.

“We can’t quit,” I calmly stated. “Do you think real detectives get to quit when they run into problems and dead ends?”

Natalie did not answer. She remained in her sulking position. Rolling my eyes, I grumbled to myself. Why is she so grouchy today? I wondered. I decided that was not a question she was willing to discuss at the moment, so I kept quiet. Unfortunately, this temporary moment of peace did not last long.

The door swung open, and dad came storming in. His face was red with anger. Before I could even guess what was wrong, he had slammed his hands down on the table. Natalie jolted upright, and cringed. I cocked an eyebrow while my dad asked the dreaded question.

“Is it true that you two are trying to solve a murder?” Dad growled. His voice was low, and difficult to hear above the dining car chatter. Probably done so he would not draw any attention to us.

I barely even blinked. Staring up at him, I shrugged. “Yeah.”

Digging her fingers into her scalp, Natalie sighed. “We’re not solving this murder. It’s more like we’re floundering.”

“Well I don’t give a damn what you two were doing because consider yourself off this case!”

Clenching my fists, I jumped up from my seat. “You can’t do that!” I shouted. All eyes simultaneously turned toward us and our confrontation. Natalie buried her head in her hands. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her neck began to change from ghostly white to beat red. But, I did not care at the moment.

My dad crossed his arms. He straightened out his back, drawing upon his authority. Taking in a deep breath, he tried his best to hold in his temper. I could sense that it was bubbling up to the surface. “Look,” he paused, swallowing some saliva. “You’re gonna get killed if you keep insisting on doing this! What would your mother say if she knew?”

“We’ve done this before, dad! It’s no big deal!” I snarled, finally reaching a breaking point. Probably a dumb move, considering none of our parents really knew about our escapade. Yet, something in me snapped. I was tired. Sick of being treated like a toddler.

“Oh boy…” Natalie slid out of the booth, trying to make an escape. Her efforts were in vain, however, because my dad snagged her wrist. Then, he grabbed mine, and started dragging us away.

I dug my shoes into the carpet, making it harder for him to pull. That, however, backfired. He yanked me forward. “You’re not getting out of this one.” He grumbled.

We gave up after that. Just let him lead us into his room where he quickly shut the door. His eyes turned back on us. His fists were clenched. His nostrils flared. “You two…” He paused to clear his throat. “Are in so much trouble. What were you thinking? Tangoing with a murder! Absolutely unacceptable.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off. “I don’t want any of your excuses. The both of you are grounded for the rest of this vacation.”

“But Mr. Romero…”

“I know you’re technically not my daughter, Natalie, but I don’t think your parents will argue with my reasoning.” He shut down her argument with one foul swoop. Then, he rested his hands on his hips while shifting his balance from his left to right foot. That’s how I knew we were really in trouble. “That means you don’t get to go anywhere except your sleeping compartment, and the dining compartment. No more popping over to Fatima’s. No impromptu hikes. No sneaking into other people’s rooms or talking to anybody. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” both Natalie and I begrudgingly agreed to his terms. Not like there was much of a choice.

“Good,” he nodded his head, proud of his disciplinary action. Pointing to the door, he executed his next order. “Now go to your room! And don’t even think about getting any funny ideas of sneaking out. I’m going to check up on you every hour throughout the night because you two have lost my trust. Go!”

Sagging our shoulders, we both exited his room. If solving this case was impossible beforehand, it just got a whole lot harder. I thought as we entered our room.


	30. Sleuth Update #15

MysteriousSymphony-

So…EvidencePainter’s dad caught us. Don’t know how he figured it out, but he did. Wouldn’t be surprised if someone ratted us out. Probably, Jackie because she sucks and hates us. Of course, he was horrified. Seemed to wonder why we did this. Were we gaining anything from this? Was this fun to us?

No. It’s not. We’re completely stumped with this case. We have next to nothing on anyone. Who is it? Your guess is as good as mine. We just need that one damn piece of evidence to put someone in the room. If we had that, then we’d have an answer for the cops who come tomorrow!

Honestly, I think EvidencePainter’s dad is right. What business do we have tackling something as massive as murder? We don’t have anything to test DNA evidence. We don’t have the expertise. And we don’t even have a time of death. How helpful is that?

There is that bag of evidence we’ve collected. It’s not much, but it’s something. Our notes should be extremely informative and give the detectives a head start. That is, of course, if they decide to take us seriously.

You know, why don’t they take us seriously? Is there a magical moment in adulthood that grants you the ability to suddenly become responsible and trustworthy in the eyes of other adults? I don’t think that’s the way it works. At all. But, that’s how we’re treated. Guess we gotta live with it.

What was I…oh yeah! In case you hadn’t figured by now, we’re being punished to early bed time. Can’t complain about that.

Surprisingly, I’m not all that tired. Yeah…it’s weird. Last time I couldn’t stay awake and was running on empty. This time, however, there were no night escapades. So, I’ve been getting my sleep in.

Right now EvidencePainter and I are sitting on the floor. She’s reading while I’m typing this up. We plan on shutting out the lights soon to pretend we’re sleeping. I’m not sure what we’re gonna do after that.

One thing is for sure though. I’m not gonna be able to sleep tonight. There’s just too many unanswered questions. I can’t stop thinking about this mystery. So, I’m off to ponder things to see if I can think of something that’ll help us.

Goodnight sleuths.

Time: 7:30 pm, Date: June 18th, 2015


	31. Sleepless

Lying on my back, I stared up at the ceiling. Sweat drenched my whole body making it difficult to sleep. Well, that and the disappointment of failure looming over my thoughts, and eating away at my soul. That burden was also a bit hard to bear.

Every time my eyes closed and I would just start dozing off to sleep, I kept having a bizarre dream. Kamille would appear in an ethereal glow. Her frizzy curls covered about half of her face. She had reached out: her soft hands brushing against my cheek. Parting her lips, she would murmur, “Have you found my killer yet?”

I tried to answer. But before I could utter a word, she would draw back. Her face would contort into a mixture of sadness and disgust. “You haven’t.” She answered for me.

“But we’re trying!” I’d protest. “We just don’t have the means, or the resources to figure it out. We’re not the police! We can’t send things off to a crime lab. Without that, how can we solve anything?”

Crossing her arms, she glared at me. “You mean you can solve a jewelry heist case with barely any evidence, but you can’t solve a murder where evidence is about as rare as a squirrel?” She turned away from me while scoffing. “Unbelievable…It seems to me like you don’t even care.”

That was usually about the point where I would get angry. “Well, if you’re so pissed about it, then why don’t you tell us how to figure it out?”

She paused, taking about a second to ponder before speaking. “I think the answer’s quite simple. You guys should’ve spent more time in my room.” And then, she would always vanish, leaving me to contemplate her words.

Shivering, I rolled over on my side. I glanced over at the other bed. The faint sound of her breathing was just barely audible above the noisy air conditioner. Maybe she can’t sleep either, I thought. If so, then there was little point to keeping up this charade any longer.

“Yessica?” I whispered. “You awake?”

Sitting upright, she nodded. “Yeah…wish I wasn’t.” She scooted toward the edge of her bed to face me. “You can’t stop thinking about the murder, can you?”

I rubbed my eyes, and sighed. “Worse. Can’t stop seeing her face. It’s like she’s haunting my dreams. Begging me why can’t we solve this. It’s terrible.”

Nodding, Yessica yawned. Dark circles had started to form beneath her brown eyes. She brushed her thick black hair with her fingers. Probably was thinking about our next move. She often got like this: really quiet and staring off into space.

I just ignored her silence, and continued babbling on. “I mean, this dream is just so weird. She keeps coming to me, and complaining about how we haven’t solved her case yet. And I’m telling you, it’s bugging me because I don’t have an answer for her. I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out what we’ve missed.”

Finally, my frustration had reached a boiling point. I rolled out of bed, snatched my phone, and increased the brightness. Yessica covered her eyes, and hissed, “Turn off the light, Natalie!”

Crossing my arms, I rolled my eyes. “No, I’m not gonna.” Before she could protest further, I continued. “I’m going back to Kamille’s room. This time I’m searching from top to bottom for whatever we missed. Stay here if you want, but I can’t stand it.” With that, I marched out of the room.

The corridor was dead silent. Streams of silver moonlight illuminated the gaudy carpet. My large white T-shirt glowed like a beacon, signaling to everyone I was out of my room. I felt exposed. Goosebumps formed on my bare legs. Creeping forward, I felt my heart start racing. I jumped at every little sound. Turned my head at every flickering shadow.

As slowly as possible, I made my way past all the doors. I listened carefully for talking, and checked for any hint of light. No light shone beneath door cracks. No word was spoken behind the doorways. Nothing.

That allowed me to relax some. I quickened my pace, and soon found myself standing in the center of Kamille’s room. Not much had changed. Her things were still strewn about on the bed. Blood still stained the floor and sheets. No sign of any intruders after we had left.

My feet padded on the floor while I paced. I rubbed my fingers over my chin. Narrowing my eyes, I scrutinized everything in sight. Chewing my lower lip, my thoughts wandered back to when we first searched the room. “Where’d we forget to look?” I muttered.

Bending over to glance under the bed, the answer suddenly hit me. “Under the nightstand!” I gasped. We had been so caught up in leaving this room intact that we had never even thought about it.

I knelt down on the rug, being ever so careful not to disturb any of the blood. Bracing myself against the drawers, I shone my light in to the black void. Immediately, I spotted something. It was small and round and reflective, hiding so far it was lying next to the back wall.

I smiled. “Bingo!” Sliding my hand in the small opening, I stretched my arm as far as I could. My fingers strained. Whatever the object was, it was just barely out of my reach.

“Hey,” Yessica’s voice cut through my concentration. She rested her hand on my back. “What are you doing?”

Groaning, I pulled back and pushed myself upright. I turned around, and sighed. Like me, Yessica had not bothered to change. She still wore her grey shirt and black spandex shorts. A part of me was still the tiniest bit angry with her, but I ignored that and focused on the problem.

“There’s something under the nightstand. I tried to grab it, but my arms are too short.”

Nodding, Yessica made a suggestion. “I’ll give it a try.” She produced a plastic bag that was scrunched in her hands. Then, she squatted, reached in, and easily pulled it out. Zipping up the seal, she stared at it. “Hard to see what it says without my glasses.”

“Let me try,” I offered, extending my hand.

Yessica dropped the bag in my palm. I beckoned her to hold the light while I lifted it into the air. Squinting, I was able to make out the words. “To Life and Love, My Darling Karol.” Eyes widening, my jaw dropped. “Oh my god!” I stammered. “This ring belongs to one of the Newmans.”

“Better yet,” Yessica started typing on her phone. “It belongs to the killer!”


	32. Sleuth Update #16

EvidencePainter-

Location: Kamille’s Sleeping Car

Subject: Wedding Ring

Description: White gold circular band, smooth, large, and has inscription that reads, “To Life and Love, My Darling Karol.”

Assessment: Final key piece of evidence we’ve been searching for. Ties one person to inside the crime scene.

Evidence:

Ring soaked in blood. Slipped off during either stabbing of struggle.

Conclusion: The killer is…

Time: 2:00 am, Date: June 19th, 2015


	33. Confrontation

“Geez, Yessica! You think you could make your phone screen a little brighter. I don’t think it’s visible enough through the door.” Natalie griped. She threw her hand over her face. “Or I guess you’re just trying to blind me.”

Growling, I gritted my teeth. “I’m just trying to give people an update! Aren’t you the one always saying I need to update on the website more. Do you want me to stop typing because I’ll gladly never give a mystery status update again.”

“Well there’s a time and a place for that! Snooping around this room in the dark is not one of those times.”

“You update people as things are happening. Why can’t I?”

“I don’t do it in the middle of the danger.” Natalie whispered as loud as she could. Tugging on her black hair, she let loose a frustrated sigh.

“I just don’t see why it’s a big deal. Your screaming is more likely to wake someone than my light,” my grumblings were met with a sour look as I jammed my phone in m pocket.

Rolling her eyes, Natalie sucked in a deep breath. She took a moment to compose herself before explaining her reasoning. “Look, I’m just paranoid that the killer could come bursting through the door any minute because we are chatting it up in the crime scene, and there’s a glowing blue screen alerting everybody to where we’re at.” She wildly gestured to the exit. “That’s our only way out, and if he waltzes inside, we’ve got nowhere to go…”

“Natalie!” I interrupted her rant, and grabbed her cold fingers. “It’s okay. We’ve solved this case. We can go back to our room now.”

Natalie was still convinced we would get caught. I could see it in the way her nose twitched, and the tight muscles in her neck. But, she nodded, forcing a smile on her lips.

Suddenly, the compartment door slid open and shut. Jumping at the sound, Natalie took a few steps backwards. A shocked expression formed on her pale face. Her lower lip trembled as her body went rigid with fear. Clutching the desk until her knuckles turned white, she panted.

Her body language spoke volumes. Someone was standing behind me, and they were going to be a threat. I whirled around. Right behind me-unsurprisingly-was Devan. He was holding a knife. From what I could tell, it was a very long, sharp knife that probably was one of the steak knives from dinner. Before I could even react, he snagged a handful of my hair, and pulled me close. The blade was poking into my side.

Great! I thought. Just what I always wanted to be: a hostage! 

“Don’t move a muscle!” Though Devan’s voice was quiet, it was dripping with malice.

I could see Natalie snap out of her daze. Holding out her hands, she fought the tears threatening to trickle down her cheeks. “Woah now…let’s just…calm down…for…a second…” Stammering, she struggled to form words.

Devan’s arm squeezed tighter around my neck. “What were you two doing in here?” He hissed. “And you better not lie to me!”

“We were just trying to sneak out of our room to get away from Yessica’s father.”

I was impressed how easily the lie slipped out. She had met his gaze, flashing him a pleading look of innocence. Shoulders slumping in defeat, she made herself look meek and embarrassed and apologetic. “I guess it’s not our shining moment-wandering into a dead woman’s room that’s roped off-but we just didn’t have anywhere else to retreat. So…we figured this was as good a spot as any.”

“But you two have been nosing around this case since the beginning! Why should I believe you?”

“Because,” Natalie drew in a deep breath. Probably to allow for a pause to gather her thoughts. “Mr. Romero told us to. He didn’t want us getting into trouble. Besides, we’ve gotten nowhere on the case. I can’t even begin to imagine who killed Kamille. I mean, obviously you didn’t have anything to do with this since you didn’t know her. You’re probably just concerned about robbery. Now you know that everything’s okay, can we just forget this ever happened. I really don’t want Mr. Romero yelling at us tonight.”

It almost worked. Devan was so close to believing her tall tale that he relaxed his grip on the knife. One more word of assurance, and we would have finagled our way to freedom. But just then, something shiny winked in the moonlight. It caught everyone’s attention.

The ring! My body went tense as I felt my pocket. It must have fallen out at some point. Most likely when I had shoved my phone in there. I silently cursed myself.

His eyes darted to the crumpled plastic bag lying on the floor. I prayed that he would not spot the ring inside, but judging by his grip, we were not that lucky. Face turning beat red, he clenched his jaw. “What are you doing with my ring then? Trying to peg this murder on me?”

I winced, feeling the knife starting to drive into my skin. That just about drove Natalie into a panic. She swore we had not even seen the ring before he pointed it out, but Devan would not believe her. While she had him slightly distracted, I tried to wiggle out of his grip. It did not work. He did not budge.

Finally, he reached the tipping point, and shouted, “Enough excuses!”

Closing her mouth, Natalie shot me an apologetic glance. I’m so sorry, Yessica, but I can’t save you. I could practically hear her say it out loud. As best I could, I gave her a slight nod. You did your best. I thought.

Without warning, Devan grabbed the back of my neck. He slammed me down, and then dug his knee into my stomach to keep me pinned. A sharp pain shot through my body. I groaned. The knife was now pressed against my neck. A few droplets of my blood stained the carpet.

Natalie yelped. “No! Please, don’t do this. We won’t say anything, or go to the police at all…”

“You’re lying!” He spat, causing some drool to spray in my face. There was an insatiable rage that clouded his eyes. Veins were popping out of his neck as though they would burst at any moment. In an instant, his hand wrapped around my neck.

I started gasping for breath. Flashes of blinking black spots blurred my vision. My head felt light, and the room would not stop spinning. Burning like fire, my lungs struggled to seek oxygen. I could hear Natalie’s choking sobs as she begged for my life.

“You shouldn’t have gotten involved in this if you wanted to keep your lives,” Devan voice was now chillingly devoid of emotion. He leaned over, and began to slowly drag the knife across my neck. “Now I don’t have a choice…”

What happened next was a little fuzzy. There was a thud, and Devan fell forward. His hands released my neck, and I took a few deep breaths. I heard the scuffle that ensued. Lots of grunts echoed in my ears as they danced around the compartment, knocking some stuff over. Finally, there was a loud bang as someone’s head collided with metal.

Footsteps padded across the floor. Cold hands pressed against my neck. Squinting, I was able to see Natalie leaning over me. Her black hair hung low, tickling my nose. Tears shone in her eyes. “It doesn’t look or feel that deep. You’re gonna be okay, Yessica.” She assured me.

“I know,” I hoarsely replied. Patting her hand, I weakly smiled. “How’s my battle scar?” That got a chuckle out of the both of us.

Another face suddenly appeared beside her. It was my father. And, he was extremely upset. “What the hell were you two thinking? Coming out here in your pajamas in the middle of the night. It’s absurd.” Natalie was going to interject, but my father cut her off with a wave of his hand. “If you were going to disobey, the least you could’ve done is snuck away at breakfast, or come during the day time! Would’ve been safer and less traumatizing.”

“We’re sorry, Mr. Romero,” Natalie apologized while helping me onto my feet.

“Oh I’m sure you are, but you’re going to be even more sorry when I tell your mothers what happened.”

Shooting each other worried glances, we both simultaneously cringed. Almost dying was nothing compared to the fury we were going to face at home. As I hobbled out of the room-clinging to Natalie’s shoulder-the police bombarded us. They said they had received a call, so we pointed them in Devan’s direction.

Thankfully, they allowed us to head back to our rooms. As long as we promised to give them our statements in the morning. We were chastised by my father the entire way back. Both our eyes began to droop. The adrenaline was wearing off. When we walked through the door, I instantly collapsed onto the sheets. I curled up, and burrowed into my pillow.

Natalie, however, opened up her suitcase. She produced a band-aid, forced me to roll over, and gently placed it over my wound. Then, she also fell atop her bed to sleep.

As I lay there dozing off to sleep, I smiled. I was elated by how things had turned out. Sure, I almost died tonight, but we had solved the mystery all by ourselves. A few hours ago, that was an impossible feet. Now, with the final piece of evidence, Devan’s conviction was sealed.

That and I was grateful my father had come when he did. Dying was not high on my priority list. And to Natalie who had distracted Devan long enough. I was truly lucky to have those two in my life.

A sensation of peace and happiness washed over me. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to drift into my dreams. For the first time on this trip, I actually fell into a deep sleep.


	34. Sleuth Update #17

MysteriousSymphony-

So…this was certainly an exciting turn of events. Devan tried to kill us last night (in case you didn’t guess that) (you know…we’re kind of always getting almost killed, aren’t we?). Apparently discovering you’re the murderer will drive someone to desperate measures.

Luckily, EvidencePainter’s dad came in to check on us. When he saw we were gone, he had a pretty good idea where we had gotten to. And boy, was he mad. He stomped all the way over to Kamille’s room. That was when he heard us through the door, and came rushing in to help. You guys should’ve seen the way he tackled and wrestled him. He even managed to bash Devan’s head into the metal bed post. If we weren’t about to die, it would’ve been hilarious.

I know what you’re thinking. Why Devan? Didn’t he have no ties to the victim? Turns out that’s not so true.

She was his former secretary at Krolmeister. See, Devan actually has been making copies of high end customer security details and selling them off to bidders. Was making quite a fortune and stashing it in off shore accounts. One day she must’ve seen what he was up to and hightailed it out of there.

That left Devan pretty angry. He stewed for all those months until his wife took them on an impromptu vacation (since he was such a workaholic). When he recognized her, he wanted to talk to her. Supposedly to beg her not to say a word. Even offer her some of his money.

Here’s how he says the rest of it played out, but I don’t believe it. Kamille became irate and lashed out at him. She wanted more than money. Was madly in love with him and asked him to leave his wife. He refused. Stabbed her in self-defense.

Here’s what actually happened. He walked in unannounced. Knife was in his hand. She turned around, screamed, threw up her arms and fought for her life.

Oh well, that’s a matter for the police to clear up. I heard he only confessed after one of his kids destroyed his alibi. Wasn’t out hiking after all.

The police, also, were actually kind of grateful. I know, right? Shocked me too. Said we saved them quite a bit of time and congratulated us on our work. Take that, Jackie!

Speaking of others, they’ve all headed out. Jackie’s gonna seek her fame elsewhere (hahahahahahahahahaha! Sorry. That was too funny!). Alfred’s gonna find another girl to stalk. And Yuma…well, they’re just going home. She’s lucky Neema didn’t get arrested.

Right, we never told you guys. Remember the missing gemstone? They found it in Neema’s suitcase. She thought it was fake and shiny and cool, so she took it. It’s okay, though. She apologized and no one decided to press charges.

We’re headed back home now. EvidencePainter’s dad has had enough of this vacation. It’s back to video games and television for us. Until next case, sleuths!

Time: 9:00 am, June 19th, 2015


End file.
